Rewritten in the Stars
by Onyxfang
Summary: Megatron and Optimus Primal have been destroyed. How will the Beast Wars continue with Terrorsaur and Rattrap now in charge? Takes place during the season 2 episode Aftermath.
1. Chaos Theory

**Rewritten in the Stars**

**By Onyxfang 2008**

_"Let the trails lead where they may. I will follow."_

_--**Tigatron's** personal mantra._

_*_

_I'm back again I know we all missed me._

_I'm so so sick  
Can't handle it  
Yeah I talk s***  
Just deal with it._

_So ill cash my cheques and place my bets  
and hope ill always win  
Even if I don't I'm f***** Because  
I live a life of sin  
But it's alright  
I don't give a damn!  
I don't play your rules I make my own  
Tonight ill do what I want  
Cuz I can_

_You know I'm rare  
You stop and stare  
You think I care  
I don't !_

_You can try and try you can't be me !_

_~Pink, Cuz I Can_

_*_

_It has been said something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world. - Chaos Theory_

***

There were seven stasis pods left in orbit when the Quantum Surge stuck, and it all but destroyed two of them. But hers crashed long before that, if the truth be told. During a meteoroid shower that pepper the Earth far from either base in the in what would one day be the southeast corner of Germany but was now just a far distant region of Pangaea in the midst of separation. Blissfully unconscious the silvery pod hurtled to the Earth like a comet, caught up in a mass of space debris which battered the protective shell as it streaked down out of orbit, gaining a fiery tail in the process.

It crashed down undetected into a world of murky swamps, steaming bayous, and petrified, gnarled tree forests, sinking into the muck until it vanished. Had it not been for the pod's resilient scanning program and a number of fossils preserved at the bottom of the muck, a key part of our story might well have ended here, but preserved in the mud were the remains of a Jurassic period genus of long-tailed pterosaurs. A mere seven inches of length from beak tip to the end of long tail stiffened with ligaments which ended in a diamond-shaped vane, this small predator had long sense breathed it's last, yet in the placement of it's final resting grounds, its preserved bones and impressions of soft wing and tail tissue gave the chance of new life.

The scanning probe sought through the mud and water, replicating and reforming the life within the pod. Green eyes opened to darkness and felt a surge of panic, for this new beast mode required breath, oxygen just as its basis had. The new beast warrior had been born prematurely buried alive, her life sustaining pod now threatening to become a coffin.

Then her breath started to come fast, horrified...using up what little air she has. Her sharp bestial talons clawed with no result as she tried to open the hatch against the weight of the mud. Not strong enough. Need to transform! In the confines of the pod it almost impossible, for a moment as her servos ground against one another, she was certain she would be stuck in an even more helpless half transformed state, but she was just small enough to shift into robot mode. There was little chance for relief as her armor settled into place. She pounded frantically on the sides, trying to scream but no sound came out. Her optics were wide, green like those of her beast mode, terrified. She continued pounding, banging on the inner lid mere inches from her face. Then strained against it, grunting with exertion as the seal opened a crack and murky, black as night water mixed with mud flooded in. She let out her last breath in a gasp as she realized she may have just brought about her end nanoclicks sooner than before.

Above the water which churned with bubbled being released, frogs croaked and alligators on the bank sides watched with cold reptilian eyes. Suddenly a hand burst out from below, then another hand, then a head and shoulders. She gasped for air, tilting her head back and letting out a shrill birdlike cry of terror and triumph before pulling herself up onto the grass, lying there panting. From the night's edge many eyes watched her, mostly predatory, though none sentient. She was utterly alone. She looked around at the dark forest, very fearfully, shivering.

***

Life is fickled, be you Maximal or Predacon. The spiders knew this perhaps better than any other bot in the Beast Wars, and well that should, for in a way they embodied it. Existence is an unseen spider web, glittering with possibilities like raindrops caught in the filaments. For each possibility there exists another word, another relative different from our own. They are shadowed pathways obscured in mist and we only discover what lies beyond the mist by making a choice. With this choice, we close off what might have been, what alternate persona we might have had, had we taken the opposite fork in the pathway, but there exists another who took that path in our stead and lived a different life for it. Seldom does one slip through the veil separating this reality from the next, and for those who have not seen it, they forever insist such things can never be, but for all their denials, these all these alternate universes and the personas of ourselves within do, indeed, exist…

For a moment he had fully considered getting on the platform. In fact, his processor had already set his exostruction in the motions of doing just that. Then he hesitated. And the universe in which he lived was altered for it.

Terrorsaur had never been a deep thinker. He was one for action, not planning, which most often resulted in him getting shot out of the sky despite his prevailing cowardess and early retreat instincts. But now he stopped, his optics dimming, because everything felt…off-kilter. As if something monumental had just occurred, though he couldn't put a finger on what exactly. He lapsed into a moment of contemplation, swaying slightly, Megatron's roaring for him to take his station seeming to come from another lifetime, another reality altogether. He wasn't simply being purposefully rebellious and defiant as usual, but it was more as if his feet were glued to the deckplates.

He stood frozen as moon which was not a moon rained down shooting stars of energy that passed through the shields and ship's hull, passed through him as if he did not even exist_! ~Maybe I don't exist…not the me that used to…~_ he thought in a vaguely dreamlike state, only offhandedly aware that a light, a power was suffusing his body, that the other three bots in the command center, Megatron, Waspinator and Scorponok, were all reacting with panic. Then he knew no more.

***

"My aching head…" Terrorsaur groaned as he came too, looking up at an odd angle at the command console. He was laying on his back, which was not an entirely comfortable position since his beast mode head folded back onto it and was not pressing up painfully, the sharp beak digging in. He rolled onto his side with a groan and moved to touch his helmeted head with one hand, then paused, because the hand that came up was not his own. Or at least, not the one he was used to with five perfectly formed black digits. This hand was bigger, bulkier with deep purple in color with metallic green claws, only two fingers, and a thumb. In fact his entire arm was bulkier. Looking down he found his exostructure's coloring hard changed remarkably, all the soft leathery beast mode sections replaced by shining impressive armor. His beast mode face now folded onto his chest whereas the discomfort he felt on his back was from upgraded jetpack. His legs were a deep onyx hue with golden yellow trim and talons.

Mystified as he was, Terrorsaur's thoughts were torn away from admiring his new transmetal form by the sputtering sounds of Waspinator as the insect pulled himself out of the CR Tank, dripping gleaming green fluid on the lower deck. "Terrorzaur? Whaaaat happened?" The wasp buzzed disorientedly.

He opened his mouth to reply but was cut short as Scorponok let out a despairing wail. Not yet trusting his new wings and jetpack, Terrorsaur clamored to his feet and located his hover pad, moving it near to where the Scorpion, in robot mode, crouched by the edge of the platform, overlooking the lava.

Like himself, Scorponok had undergone several changes. His armor, no longer a dull leathery gray, was now pitch black and reflected the flickering damaged lights. Bits of red accents, as bright as Terrorsaur's former beast mode, gleamed like wet organic blood , were visible on his claws, tail, (which seemed larger and more imposing) and face as well as hints of silver. Scorponok had never had much of a battle edge but his fellow Predacons, taking in his new form, had to admit he now looked like a form to be reckoned with.

At first Terrorsaur couldn't decide just what had the Second in Command's software in a snarl until he noticed the gouged grooves dug into the deck plating ending at the edge as if something had frantically been trying to sink claws or teeth into the steel before toppling over the edge into the inferno below. Suddenly it struck him that there was no bellowing voice ordering him to issue a damage report. Could it be…?

"Megatron iz _destroyed?!"_ Waspinator buzzed in puzzlement and disbelief, voicing what all three Predacons were thinking.

"He fell…" Scorponok wheezed, obviously in shock, though his head snapped up and his now red optic band narrowed in fury when Terrorsaur let out a whoop of triumph.

"Wazzzpinator doezzz not believe it!"

"You better believe it, Bug-Breath! Megatron is melted down to a puddle of worthless.." Terrorsaur let out a squawk of surprise as Scorponok tackled him and slammed a massive claw into his face, almost denting it inward. The two transmetal Predacons struggled rolling precariously close to the edge of the deck as they traded blows and gritted out insults before Waspinator finally managed to pull Scorponok off. The transmetal scorpion clicked his claws rapidly, nearly frantically, on the verge of a panicked breakdown. His entire existence had been radically altered. If Terrorsaur had liked Scorponok at all, he might have felt sorry for him. But of course, he didn't.

"You idiot! Megatron is or leader, without him we're _doomed_!"

"_WAS_ our leader, shell-head," he spat back, wipe a drop of mech-fluid from his lower lip,"Now *I'M* your leader!" The two Predacons stared at him in stunned silent before Scorponok could force his vocalize to work proper once more.

**"You!?"** Scorponok sputtered out in something like a scornful laugh, "Who in the Pit would follow you?!"

Considering his past failures, it was a fair question and might have faltered the dactyl's confidence some, had the others been there to echo it. But they weren't. Unperturbed, Terrorsaur glanced at Waspinator with a knowing smirk, "Let's put it to a vote, shall we? All in favor of our second in command assuming control, raise your hands...or claws..." Only Scorponok responded, glowering at Waspinator as he looked from one to the other and kept his hands at his sides. Terrorsaur snickered, "All in favor of ME assuming command?" He raised his own hand and after a moment of hesitation so did Waspinator, _"SEE?"_

"That's not even a fair vote. The spiders and Inferno aren't here…"

"You really want one of the spiders throwing in their bid for leader?" Terrorsaur shot back and he could tell by Scorponok's expression the idea was even less appealing than following the scarlet flyer. "I thought as much. However with yours, Inferno's and Waspinator's support they won't have much choice other than to accept me, now will they?"

Scorponok muttered darkly under his breath but if he were entirely realistic, Terrorsaur would likely gain support from Inferno with his smooth talking before Scorponok could, and he stood little chance against the ant for sheer power and brutality, transmetal armor aside. Anything was better than following Tarantulas or Blackarachnia…wasn't it?

"As Second in Command…" he started.

"Which you're _not _anymore," Terrorsaur cut him off, smirking gleefully as Scorponok's jaw almost hit the floor. But if there was one thing he had learned from Megatron, it was always choose a second in command who is both dumber than yourself and loyal to you. And there was only one bot in this entire dust ball that could truly be said to be loyal to Terrorsaur, the same one who had spent countless mega cycles recovering his pieces after Airazor had blasted from the sky upon her appearance in the Beast Wars, "Waspinator is the new Second in Command."

The wasp clapped his hands childishly and giggled as Scorponok's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Though he was greatly enjoying the site of it, Terrorsaur turned his back on both of them and strolled self-importantly to the command chair, seating himself in it with a grand flourish, "Now, get me a damage report. I want to know what repairs are necessary when we return…"

_"Return from where?!"_ Scorponok finally wheezed out, still not fully recovered from the shock of his demotion.

"The Maximal base, of course! With Optimus Primal gone we will retrieve our comrades, secure victory, and destroy the Maximals once and for all!"

**To Be Continued…**

***

**Author's Note:** _Hey guys! Any input would be well appreciated and enjoyed. This is Onyxfang, AKA Onyx Night/ Laserbeak. I have previously written a beast wars series almost ten years ago now, starring my OC, Laserbeak or Lase, as she is fondly know to my friends, but to be blunt, looking back on it, it was sentimental slag of the worst sort with not nearly enough action and far, far too much mush. I'd like to think I've developed quite a bit as a writer since then._

_The idea of making Terrorsaur leader came to me a while back because he has always been my favorite Predacon and because, if truth be told, I was very inspired by the amazing writing of two close friends, Taratron and Shockbox, who both have their own incredible series set during the Beast Wars._

_The idea for an alternate universe created by a minute change is not a new on. If you have seen the episode, "Code of a Hero", the one that always makes me sob like a baby, you may recall that as the Predacons invade the valley in which the proto-humans are evolving, Rampage crushes a butterfly. Ray Bradbury, author of "Something Wicked This Way Comes", also wrote a short story "A Sound of Thunder", in which a time traveler whom journeys to the past on a safari to hunt dinosaurs inadvertently steps on a butterfly, thus dramatically altering the future of humanity. It is also reminiscent of the Butterfly Effect, a principle of chaos theory which holds that a single small change can eventually lead to vast changes._

_My last note is concerning Laserbeak. She originally based off the repaint action figure of Terrorsaur (Lazorbeak), but over time she's become quite different and very much her own character. She has nothing to do with the ancient Decepticon, Laserbeak. Her beast mode has since been altered from a pterodactyl to a rhamphorhyncus which better suits her small size. She maintains her softness, but has developed a new edge with time to befit her place as a Predacon. As Taratron once said "Nice Predacon=Corpse". If you want to use her in art or fan fiction please ask my permission and credit me with her creation. That's all for now!_


	2. Dis Yer First Day on Da Job er What?

__

**Rewritten in the Stars**

**By Onyxfang 2008**

_Don't want the sun to shine upon my face _

_And I see your eyes and their glazy haze_

_Your lips don't move _

_But I hear what you're saying_

_I look outside through the razor blades _

_And I crawl and I scrape and I feel for you_

_But there's nothing _

_There's nothing that I can do_

_I'm a freak_

_I'm the freak of the world _

_I'm a freak_

_Freak of the world _

_Stars are shining oh so bright _

_And I don't think everything's alright_

_And I can't wake up_

_Cuz I dream all night _

_Yeah you're in my way _

_And I can't get by_

_And I beg and I cheat and I steal for you_

_But there's nothing_

_There's nothing that I can do_

_I'm a freak_

_I'm the freak of the world _

_I'm the freak of the world _

_I'm the freak of the world _

_And there's nothing I can say_

_And there's nothing you can do_

_And there's nothing I can say or do_

_-Puddle of Mudd, Freak of the World_

_***_

Elsewhere, under one of the planet buster-generated storms in the Delta Quadrant, three stasis pods had crashed, their DNA scanners malfunctioning. Lighting flashed and thunder cracked over head, painting the landscape an ominous crimson as the ground shook. "All systems… malfunctioning.." one of the pod's voices droned out then failed as it sought a beast mode, the scanning array locating a suitable life form, or, as it was so badly damaged, life FORMS, then failed completely. A desperate hand smashed through the lid, reaching for the sky, then fell back limply.

The two remaining stasis pods, also badly damaged by energon radiation, whirred to life in unison, scanning for compatible life forms. With a low hiss of decompression the pods released their occupants. The first, a silvery furred timber wolf, stretched his powerful golden feathered wings as he emerged. He flexed the eagle talons of his fore feet in the warm desert sand as the smaller transformer crept out of his pod, gleaming gold and turquoise in the full moon's light from scorpion claws to the hooded cobra's head which tipped his tail. The two fuzors regarded each other with unease.

"Well...lookey what we got here…"

"Who are you?...For that matter, who am I?" The wolf asked, blinking large yellow eyes in confusion.

"I dunno, pal" The scorpion fuzor replied, a thick country style twang accenting his words. "But Ah'll tell ya one thang Ah _do_ know, an that is… Ah bet Ah kin thrash yer tail!"

"What?!" the wolf recoiled in shock.

"Ya heard me! C'mon! You an me, we gonna tangle, Fuzz'n'Feathers! Right here, right now!"

Without further warning the smaller fuzor launched himself at the larger one who immediately took flight and landed on a rocky outcrop just above the scorpion's reach. He blinked and eyed his thickly muscled golden eagle wings, as startled by his instinctive ability as his companion was.

"Shoot, now, that ain't _fair!!"_ the Scorpion/cobra whined loudly, attempting to crane back and eye his own shoulders as if expecting to find an equally magnificent set of wings sprouting there. He was sorely disappointed to find he had none, nor any other means of flying and thus following the wolf. "Come on down here and lets' settle this…uh..whatever Ah am ta whatever you are!"

"I will _not!_ I do not wish to fight you!" the wolf fuzor replied with dignity, his hackles ruffling then laying flat on his shoulders and neck as he regarded one talon-like front paw with interest. His data tracks had suffered greatly and for the life of him he could not decide what in the universe nature of creature he was.

"Well yer a lily-livered, mangy, buck-toothed.." The scorpion started then yelped when the pod next to his own shot out a wave of sparks, "What'n tarnation?!?"

The wolf leapt down next to the other fuzor, their quarrel forgotten for the moment as he sniffed the pod. The scorpion fuzor wandered off to investigate something strange, a detached arm which twitched weakly then lay still among the brambles. He grasp it in his claws and carried it back along with part of a computer, "Whacha make a' this, Fuzz 'n Feathers?"

The remains of another robot. Though the wolf did not yet know himself to be a robot, he felt a kinship to the suffering being. Was it possible that another stasis pod crashed alongside the two fuzors', but the protoform within was destroyed on impact? He jerked back suddenly as he glimpsed a hand inside the remains of the pod, one that matched the limb the arachnid held, "My friend, I do not know how, but I believe that whatever we are, this creature is also one of us..and it is dying.."

"How do ya figure? We don't look nothin' like that!" the scorpion gestured to the arm emphatically.

"Perhaps not, but we may once have. After all, like this poor soul, we emerged from these…pods…luckily for us, ours remained largely intact."

"So whatta ya reckon we gonna do 'bout it?"

"I do not know...but we can not sit idly by and allow this life to be extinguished.." he paused, looking back at his own pod, "Perhaps we might use some of the circuitry from our own pods to repair this one and give this life a fighting chance.."

***

"And den we woke up an, uh...Cheetor and I were dese trans...metals..." Rattrap explained with a shrug to a skeptical looking Dinobot and Rhinox back at the Axalon. As with the Predacons, two of their number, Cheetor and Rattrap, were not sporting shining new armor and abilities. Their shining new exostructures gleamed handsomely in the dim light, as the power had not yet been completely restored."Nice huh? HEY!" he protested as Dinobot invaded his personal space, spinning one of his new wheels before he wacked the raptor's hand away.

The tall Maximal warrior snorted, rubbing his prominent chin thoughtfully, "A definite improvement, though in your case that's not difficult..."

"Oy, I KNEW we shoulda left you offline, Lizard Butt..." the rat fumed, the two ready to go at each other when Rhinox intercepted them, holding them apart with a grime look of frustration. He had enough work cut out for himself getting Sentinel and the rest of the Axalon's systems back online without the two combatants scrapping one another.

"Enough. Stand down, Dinobot."

The former Predacon turned his aggression on the rhino, his red optics full of indignation, "By what right do you command me?" he demanded coldly, glaring, "With Optimus gone, I should be.."

His objections were cut short as a massive green fist closed around his throat, lifting him slightly off the deck plates. Rhinox's normally gentle gaze was narrowed to red embers of fury and grief doe their departed leader, "I'm in a bad mood, understand?" He said icily, his voice enough to frighten even the hardened warrior who nodded rapidly.

"Uh huh..." he managed before Rhinox dropped him, making both Cheetor and Rattrap react with shock. It wasn't just the knowledge that even Dinobot could be scared. At least, not for Rattrap. It seemed far too soon to be talking about who would take Optimus's place, and ultimately it would come down to either himself or Dinobot. They'd been through this issue once before, but at the time Optimus had still been around in some form to settle it.

Now he was gone. Completely gone. Who was going to vouch for Rattrap's leadership as opposed to Dinobot's?

***  
THUD! Tarantulas's curled up body hit the ground as Blackarachnia shoved it carelessly from one of the Axalon's exhaust ports, watching it roll to a stop in the dimming rays of the sunset.

"Careful, widow!" Taratulas's voice snarled inside her head, her optics glowing an unnatural green momentarily. Smelter, she was sick of having that lunatic inside her head, almost enough to truly consider the threat she spat out in response.

"Easy with the name-calling, ugly, or I'll self destruct and slag us both!" She leapt down nimbly, resting her striped claws on her curved hips as she eyed the now single moon and the dark storm clouds on the horizon, "Things have changed around here..."

"The more things change, the more they stay the same."

That voice hadn't come from inside her head! She whirled to face the speaker directly behind her and got a faceful of Airazor's fist for her trouble. She landed on her backside, growling softly as she sat up. This was NOT her day. When she had aided Tarantulas in breaking into the _Axalon_ to acquire a stasis pod for conversion into an escape ship, her intent had been to take the escape vessel for herself and leave her "partner" stranded to face the wrath of the aliens he so despised. It seemed luck was with her when she didn't succeed in stealing the pod as Megatron had made his own alteration to it, making it unseal able one it was in space, which had lead to Optimus Primal's destruction. However, her deception had backfired on her in the worst way, costing her her free will as her creator forced a mind link between them. If she ever got him out her head…

Curse that stupid ant, it was his fault too! Sent by Megatron, Inferno had stomped into the room, interrupting Tarantulas's download of the stasis pod's data tracks and torched him into unconsciousness, and, Blackarachnia had hoped, oblivion. After dealing with Inferno, thinking herself quite clever, Blackarachnia had picked up Tarantulas's discarded download visor, unwittingly giving him just the opening he needed to enter her mind and control her from his stasis-locked transmetallized body.

"Looks like Rattrap was right," Tigatron commented as Blackarachnia brooded over her misfortune, brought back to present by the tiger's comment. She started to get up then froze as Airazor aimed her wrist mounted arrow launcher at her face.

"Go ahead, Spider, make a move, _please_," the falcon taunted her then suddenly all three bots looked up as a missile blew the Maximals off their feet, knocking them both temporarily offline.

Blackarachnia shook her head then looked up at her unlikely rescuer as he landed. At first with his deep purple coloring, she mistook him for Megatron. Then her optics settled on his smug red faceplate.

"Well, well…" Terrorsaur's scratchy voice remarked cheerfully. She had certainly never thought it would be a welcome sound to her audio processors, "Looks like you could use a hand…and some firepower to back it up." Smirking, he crouched slightly, offering her a three digited shrap-taloned hand. She eyed it like it was a poisonous serpent, and then finally took it, allowing him to draw her up to her feet.

"What are you doing here…where's Megatron?" She narrowed her optics at the transmetalized pteranodon.

"The scrap heap," he boasted, eyeing her thoughtfully. In truth, part of him had always admired the she-spider. Like himself, she had never been content to be a loyal toady rushing in headlong under the tyrant's orders to get scrapped. She was a clever one, but then she was also treacherous as he had ever been, which brought about a dilemma. He detached one wing tip that now formed a razor edged blade weapon that could easily cut through the delicate armor at her throat, the level at which he was holding it. "And since you betrayed him it makes me wonder…how can I trust you?"

Typical! Megatron's exostructure was likely still cooling and already the pterodactyl was attempting a take over. Yet, she was smart enough to know he could easily over power her at the moment and blast her to pieces, especially with Waspinator buzzing about behind him, ready to back him up. And then there was Scorponok. As much as the scorpion despised Terrorsaur he harbored a far blacker hatred for her after what had happened on the flying island. Now was not the time to make more enemies.

"You don't know that…" she agreed, running her claws down the lines of her body to clean away smudges as well as draw his attention to her shapely form. With satisfaction, she saw his smirk falter. Her attractiveness was a weakness that could be exploited against all the Predacon males save Scorponok and Inferno. "But while Optimus's parts may be decorating space, the rest of the Maximals are inside and fully functional. That means they out number and outgun you, so I would think you need the troops…"

He paused, his now yellow optics narrowing before he lowered the blade, "Point taken..."

Waspinator buzzed uneasily as he saw a look of understanding pass between the two treacherous Preds. Before he could speak, however, the Axalon's lift platform began to descend and on and unspoken agreement, the Predacons fell back to ambush the Maximals.

"Look!" Cheetor pointed to the prone forms of their long range scouts.

Rattrap crouched at his feet, blaster ready, activating his com with a hint of panic, "Rattrap to Rhinox! We got trouble here..."

"On our way," came the reply.

In the background Rattrap could make out Dinobot's eager battle cry. "At last, battle!"

"If its battle you want, let it begin!" Inferno's voice rang out and Rattrap exchanged a worried look with Cheetor as they heard shots fired and the fire ant's zealous cry of, "For the glory of the royalty!"

"Jumpin' gyros, what's that?" Cheetor yelped.

"Predacons, attack!!" Terrorsaur shrilled as the four Pred opened fire on the two startled Maximals. Rattrap dove off in one direction for cover, Cheetor in the other.

"Ah, man, if dere's anyone with worse timing than Jehovah's Witnesses and door to door salesmen, it's Preds!" The rodent gripped, cocking his new gun then taking aim over the boulder he was sheltering behind and scoring a direct hit on Scorponok. He grinned as he heard the arachnid holler in surprise and pain. Obviously the upgrade didn't apply to his intelligence. Good to know a few things remained the same as always.

Terrorsaur glanced at the sparking, stunned scorpion then shook his head with a heavy sigh, "Waspinator, take the cat. The rat's mine! Blackarachnia, cover me." He had a personal score to settle with the cheese mongering Maximal. More than one, in fact.

Waspinator cheerfully saluted then buzzed off to confront Cheetor. Blackarachnia nodded then stiffened, doubling over and Tarantulas's voice echoed in her head.

"Forget the Maximals, get my body out of here!"

"No way, Legs! The odds are in our favor this time…"

Tarantulas sent a shock of agony through her structure as a energy bolt from Rattrap's blaster scorched the ground a little too close to his stasis locked body for his liking, _"Just do it!"_

The widow gritted her fangs. She was going to have a Pit of a time explaining her way out of this one, but then Terrorsaur had always been a far easier audience to convince than Megatron. She launched her grappling hook into a canyon wall and snatched up the ball of transmetal legs and gears, swinging away from the battle. "When this is over, you're going on a diet…" she muttered, her shoulder servo whining in protest at his weight.

This was NOT going the way he'd intended, at all, Terrorsaur fumed. His cover fire had just retreated against his orders and Waspinator soon followed her with the cat-bot hot on his heels…since when could Freckles fly anyway??

"Blackarachnia, Waspinator!" Terrorsaur shrieked in frustration. Why was it you could never find good troops when you needed them? Just then as if his prayers had been answered Inferno crashed down through the lift opening. Although one glance at him told Terrorsaur Inferno wouldn't be winning any battles today. He grimaced and sighed with a shake of his head then jumped back as Rhinox opened fire with his chain guns, further damaging the ant.

"Well what now, _LEADER?"_ Scorponok sneered at him as Cheetor landed and Rattrap reopened fire on their now exposed positions. Blast!

Terrorsaur glared at him. It was his first day on the job! Why couldn't they give him a break when half his troops had deserted! "Uh...tactical retreat," he blurted out, trying to sound clever as he transformed to beast mode then vehicle mode, VTOL fans spinning to life with a low whirring sound, his tail section splitting open to reveal twin thruster engines as he hovered, then snapped, "Well don't just stand there, bring Inferno!"

Scorponok felt like replying that he was a scorpion, not a mule, but obediently shifted back to beast mode and hauled the ant up onto his broad, gleaming black back, scuttling off after the pteranodon.

***

The scorpion fuzor was painfully bored. He knew more about the tumbleweeds blowing by periodically getting stuck on his thin orange arachnid legs than anything about repairing this here pod do-hickey. He didn't think the fuzzy bot knew any more than he did, neither. But still the wolf patiently plucked and fidgeted with the tiny wires of the pod's console, stripping then down and tying them together after reattaching the silvery being's detached arm. Not a simple feat, given his large, talon toed digits. An impossible one, however, for the scorpion who could manipulate nothing that fine with his oversized claws and thus was only able to hold things for the wolf when needed.

Personally, the protoform gave the scorpion the creeps, being all shiny and eyeless as it was. And he doubted the thing was alive anyway, so it came as a far bigger shock to him when the pod suddenly chirped out, "Critical damage, data tracks non-recoverable. Suitable life form selected."

"Ya did it!" he cried as they both stumbled back a good distance, the pod making several unnatural clanking sounds as it struggled to finish the process then without warning the lid shot off and flew several meters away in the brush, so close it almost took their heads off.

"Holy smokes!" the smaller fuzor exclaimed, "Iffen he done that on purpose I'm gonna kick his keister..."

"Who are you calling a "_he"?"_ a slender, flame colored form pounced out of the pod, landing in front of them, her tail twitching. If the first two fuzors were pieces of strange work, then the newcomer was no better, for she also bore the traits of two far different species. Her primary features were those of a caracal, a lithe small wine-red wildcat with elongated, tufted black ears. However, her long, slender, curved fangs, tail, and the yellowed underside ventral scales were that of a banded rattlesnake. Her tail twitched anxiously, causing the hollow beads within to rasp together.

"You need not be afraid, m'lady,' the wolf said in a most genteel manner, "We are friends. My name is…well, I think my name is...Silverbolt. Yes…yes that sounds right. Strong and sure and fast." He lifted his head regally.

"Shoot, you sure are a tinhorn!" the scorpion shook his had, eager to show off, "Call me...Quickstrike." He made a striking feint with the serpent's head atop his tail and a click of his claws. "An' who might you be, darlin'?"

She sat on her haunches, licking a paw and swiping it over her whickers thoughtfully, "Cataclysm. I think perhaps I owe you both my life..."

"Shoot, weren't nothin'…"

"It was an honor to be of service…"

It puzzled her as to why both suddenly seemed shy. In fact she thought she detected a pinking hue to their faces. No matter. She twitched her tail impatiently, padding past them, "Well then, shall we go?"

The two males exchanged a befuddled look. "Go where?"

She sighed deeply. Her two companions were obviously less than the cleverest of sorts. "To our territory, wherever that may be." At their continued looks of confusion she wrapped her tail around her paws, explaining, "Obviously we are all of a race of superior intelligence and technology, one that does not live in caves or out in the open. Somewhere out there, there must be others like us and a camp, a homestead in which to take shelter from the elements."

"Shoot, that makes sense enough, don't it? What didn't _you_ think a' that?" Quickstrike sneered, nudging Silverbolt with one of his claws before he scuttled after the feline fuzor.

"Let's get a move on then, it's going to rain and I don't want to rust!" she remarked, leading their way down through the desert, away from the lava pits and the Darkside, which none of them laid eyes on.

**To Be Continued…**


	3. Pieces Fall Into Place

**Rewritten in the Stars**

**By Onyxfang 2009**

_Life doesn't promise a bed of roses_

_Or white knights_

_Fields of emotions I'm trapped in darkness_

_Why me_

_Save me_

_To win this twisted war inside me_

_Won't justify the pain_

_Life doesn't promise a bed of roses_

_Lightening strikes the pages keep on turning_

_Help me to be strong_

_I'm floating in a sea of strange believers_

_Where do I belong?_

_They paint you a picture of perfect nowhere blue skies_

_Within every lie there's a web of comfort_

_For them_

_Not me_

_To win this twisted war inside me_

_Won't justify the pain_

_They paint you a picture of perfect nowhere_

_Where do we go from here?_

_I wish I would disappear_

_I'm a lonely soul_

_So far from home_

_Where do I belong?_

_~Anastasia, Where Do I Belong, 2004_

_***_

Terrorsaur was in a foul mood, made none the better by the fact that shortly after returning to base the computer had notified them of the downfall of three stasis pods within their territory. However, upon locating the pods, they found all three empty. Inferno and Scorponok had been sent to locate and capture the new beast warriors so they could be reprogrammed after the scorpion did a few minor readjustments on damaged ant's CPU to shorten his grieving process over the departed Megatron. Fortunately, many fire ant colonies maintained more than one queen, though they tended to number in the thousands. In smaller colonies, if they were raising another queen, it would develop to fill the roll.

Terrorsaur was none too pleased about being relabeled "Princess" by the fire ant, but until he was fully accepted by the entire colony, it was a title Inferno insisted on and he required Inferno's support. And currently there was still no sign of Blackarachnia or Tarantulas.

Currently he lay on his back under a control panel, rewiring the some of the burnt out circuits to the Darkside's mainframe computer. Not something Megatron would have helped with. Rather the old tyrant would have glowered from his throne and complained about it taking so long for the base's systems to become fully operational. However, they were short handed at this point in time and Terrorsaur was, on account of his own nature, wary of the Maximals launching a counter attack while the Predacons were in a weakened state. After all, it was what he'd done, and no self-respecting traitor would ever a lot the enemy more opportunity than he would give himself. Plus, by force of habit, it somewhat soothed his frayed nerves to be doing something he was accustom to.

"Waspinator, hand me the sincro laser.."

Sitting next to the black and purple Predacon, the wasp buzzed cheerfully. Of all the Predacons he seemed to be adapting to the changes most agreeably. "Terrorsaur haz not said magic word!"

"What??" He squawked in discomfort and covered one of his topaz optics after unthinkingly sitting up partially in response to Waspinator's comment, banging his face plat on the underside of the console, "I've got a magic word for you...NOW!"

Waspinator razzed sourly and placed the tool in the dactyl's expectant purple hand which promptly vanished from site. "Wazzzpinator thinkzz Princezz Terrorsaur iz a grouch!"

_"DON'T CALL ME THAT!!"_ The transmetal shrilled in annoyance at his wingmate who doubled over in buzzing fits of giggles."I mean it, it's not funny! If we didn't need that ant, I'd…"

Waspinator patted his friend's knee comfortingly, though if his hand lingered a little longer than it should have, Terrorsaur was too busy to notice, "Wazzpinator go out and make sure shields working?"

"Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Waspi. I still have to reprogram all the voice code activations to match my vocal signature instead of Megatron's."

"Terrorsaur figure it out! Wazzpinator hazz faith in him!" The optimistic insect chirped with affection only a deaf bot could have missed, or a very preoccupied one, and at current Terrorsaur's processor was over run with schemes and preparations for them. Waspinator just sighed when he didn't respond and headed outside, beast moding.

It was gloriously full moon out on this particular evening and Waspinator couldn't help feeling a slight pang at the remembrance of such nights he'd spent on patrol with Terrorsaur at his side. Though the dactyl was far from ideally aesthetic in his beast mode, a sharp contrast with his nearly perfect bot mode, Waspinator had more than once found himself marveling at the outline of sinewy muscle and shining scarlet scales under the light of the twin moons…

He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully as something before unnoticed caught his attention, "Hmm...one moon now.. Those markings…" He suddenly jerked with a shock of excitement, _"Wazzzpinator KNOWZZ!!"_

Without a second glance he zipped into the Darkside, so excited he completely forget the hatch behind him which he'd left open and unguarded. Moments later he transformed and stood in one of Megatron's private chambers, watching the two golden discs rotate lazily in the suspension of an anti-gravity beam. He reached out an emerald green hand to touch one and was sent crashing backwards by a protective force field. Laying on his back in a daze he stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head. Of course they would be guarded! How silly of him! He should have gone to Terrorsaur first and together they could devise a way of deactivating the energy shield around the two artifacts. How pleased his wingmate would be when he told him…

Thud. Thud. The sound of metal footsteps on the deckplates jarred him back to reality. He buzzed eagerly,"Terrorsaur, Wazzzpinator _knowzzz! _Wazzpinator found markingzzz..."

"Worthless Bug!" Dinobot snarled as his claw-tipped digits clamped down around the smaller bot's head and lifted him off the floor. Panicked, Waspinator grasp for his stinger gun but it was shot out of his hand nano-clicks later by the raptor's optic lasers. He whimpered and shook his stinging hand, the digits on fire from having the weapon ripped from his grasp. He shuddered fearfully as the tall Maximal brought him face to face so he was staring down that blade sharp nose into his burning red optics, "You saw the moon?"

"Yezz…" he choked out, terrified, unable to draw a breath to scream for the help of his wingmate. Just when he was certain his life of daily scrapings was over. "One moon now. Planet changed. And that means…"

"Earth...yesss" Dinobot hissed, mocking the deposed fallen Predacon leader's way of speaking before he carelessly dropped the couching, gasping insect on the floor, stalking closer to the discs, "It means Megatron was right, and the discs.."

"Give record of the future. Ultimate power," Waspinator confirmed, feeling a little better now that he could draw in breaths much more freely. He was also feeling a twinge of curiosity as to why Dinobot was suddenly here. After all, it was not in Maximal nature to invade an enemy base so boldly. Did that mean the raptor, upon realizing the planet of their location, had had second thoughts about his alliance to the Maximals? If so, then he might try to take control of the Predacons, which could only cause trouble for Terrorsaur. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he scooted on his skid plates towards the doorway, "If legend holdz true. Maximal legendz could be false…"

"Imbecile, do you think I would have risked so much to aide in stealing the Maximal disc if I were not certain it was genuine?" Dinobot growled, whirling on Waspinator and making him cower in fear.

"No, No, Wazzpinator not think that!!" He whimpered, putting his arms up to shield his face, "But Megatron have discs guarded. High security level force field, will take many mega cycles to decode and deactivate!"

"Perhaps…if I were concerned for your safety," the raptor sneered then before the wasp could move he hefted him bodily and flung him head first into the force field, causing it to fluctuate erratically and short out, all the while frying Waspinator's circuitry. The wasp wailed so loudly it echoed all the way down to the control center when Terrorsaur looked up sharply in surprise. While the beam of energy was entirely focused on dismantling the insect Dinobot calmly plucked the two discs from where they were suspended then watched with little sympathy as Waspinator's pieces were deposited in a compactor which crushed him into a compact cube.

The cube was then ejected and sent skidding across the floor till it bumped into Tarantulas's still curled up, stasis locked body which Blackarachnia was kicking into the room. She took one look at Waspinator and decided the chaos of Predacon life had not been tamed in the least by Terrorsaur's leadership. In fact, it seemed the same as ever. "HEY! What's going on here?"

In response Dinobot opened fire on her and the wall behind her, searing an exit through the metal. She ducked down as Terrorsaur opened fire from the other side on Dinobot, almost singing her in the process. Her optics brightened to an unearthly green as her form went rigid, Tarantula's voice snapping from her vocalize, "He's taking the discs! STOP HIM!"

"Forget it! He's leaving, and I'm not risking MY body to go after him!"

"Fool, those discs are more valuable than…erg…never mind!! For now…"

Terrorsaur halted mid pursuit of Dinobot, his optics wide, staring at Blackarachnia who seemed to be having a seizure of some sort by the rigid, quivering way she was standing and the tilt of her head, "What the slag is wrong with_ you_??"

She whipped around so quickly he took a step back as the eerie green glow from her normally dark optics illuminated his face. But what made him nearly drop his blaster in shock was when Tarantulas's voice snarled from Blackarachnia's body, "None of your business, you low-grade metal moron!"

"Tarantulas…how…what..." having had some limited experience with a situation like this when Waspinator was possessed by Starscream, Terrorsaur was in no mood to go through it again, "How in the Pit did this happen?"

"I have no time to waste on your likes...easy there, that's my body!" Tarantulas barked as Terrorsaur tripped over his curled up transmetal shell.

The dactyl's lips curled in disgust then he smirked suddenly, a gleam entering his optics, "This is you...is it?" He gave the stasis locked shell a vicious kick and Tarantulas let out a howl of fury. Feeling almost gleeful, Terrorsaur gave the transmetal spider another kick which sent him skidding down the hall. "You want it? Follow me."

Tarantulas fumed but allowed Blackarachnia to take control of her own body once more to follow Terrorsaur back to the control room. Waspinator, as he was not in immediate danger of terminating, was forgotten for the moment, although he managed to get one claw out to pull himself along, mumbling the entire time, "Oh, sure, don't mind Wazzzpinator…dragging self to CR tank...not fair…"

Terrorsaur stood with one foot on top of Tarantula's helpless form by the edge of the upper platform as Blackarachnia and her unwanted guest arrived. He looked far too smug, admiring his claws as if he had all the time in the world. "So it seems like you're in a bit of a spot, spiders…"

"You brainless flyer if you…**NO!"** Tarantulas gasped, Blackarachnia's form going rigid in shock as Terrorsaur casually nudged the curled up spiderbot shell closer to the edge. Below the lava which had dissolved Megatron to non existence bubbled, lapping eagerly at the rock face as if it remembered the taste of sentient life and hungered for more.

"Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't think of disposing of a crew member as valuable as you, Tarantulas…not if you swore fealty to me, of course," the cunning pterodactyl cackled in undisguised glee, watching every tense line of the widow's exostruction, knowing neither host nor parasite would dare open fire on him at the moment.

_"You blasted…!"_

"Don't do it, Legs, he's got us both in a spot and _you know it!"_

"I'll never bow to him! _NEVER!"_

Seemingly unconcerned with the argument taking place, Terrorsaur shrugged, "No? Alright then…" Another small nudge sent the shell over the edge.

_**"NO!!!"**_ Both Tarantulas and Blackarachnia screamed in unison, her claws outreached in panic.

Terrorsaur snickered, the shell now precariously balanced between the ledge and one foot talon, held by the most unsteady of means above the liquid flames of certain doom, condemning the two spiders to a shared form until their sparks extinguished, something neither of them wanted.

Blackarachnia shook with Tarantulas's fury before she slowly, rigidly dropped to one knee before the flyer, the male spider's seething voice hissing from her once more, "You..have my vow of fealty, Terrorsaur…" The name was ground out as if it were the most vile curse in Cybertronian language.

Terrorsaur snickered, raising an optic arch, "I believe that's one short..."

"ERG…Fine, you have my vow as well," Blackarachnia spat, "Now can we get this lunatic out of my head?"

The flyer shrugged then reached down and snatched up Tarantula's shell raking his claws over it to let them know exactly who remained in power, "Might as well. You two are no good to me bickering in there over one body."

***

Traveling in beast mode was hard on the paws, but then as of yet the fuzors were unaware they had a second mode. So for the past day they had wandered aimlessly up into higher territory, their signals blocked by the mountains, making them impossible for either faction to locate via scanner.

Over time the two males found that as what remained of her data tracks reconfigured themselves Cataclysm, like the others, sported and unusual accent, one a Human might identify as almost Cockney or Street British, if not quite as clipped.

She also proved to be a picky eater. On the occasion that she astonished both males by sprinting forward and leaping several times her own height into the air to snatch a bird in flight, she proceeded to shear the feathers from the meat neatly and discard the internal organs, plucking them out with her long fangs.

Quickstrike had taken to affectionately labeling her "Sugar-bot", something which earned a hiss from her on every occasion. It failed to discourage him, however and he and Silverbolt got in frequent squabbles over throwing themselves over mud holes and such to protect what they considered her delicate feet from being soiled. She responded with a glare then pointedly walked around them, making their effort useless.

Scaling a section of the rocker terrain in what they did not know to be designated by the Predacons and Maximals as Tanna-16, her tufted ears suddenly went straight up as she tensed. On a ledge not 10 meters above her stood a wild sheep with upward curving horns. Her tail flicked for silence and in unison both male fuzors ceased their current argument.

Cataclysm tensed her shoulders then sprang upward, bounding from foothold to foothold after the sheep. She did not notice the larger, spotted cat intent on the same prey from 14 meter above. The snow leopard, starved by the rarity of prey in it's domain following the quantum surge, leapt down and blocked the animal's upward escape route. Its fur long thick pelt bristled as it snarled at the smaller feline.

The prey animal bleated in dismay and confusion, turning to flee downward then cried out as Cataclysm sank her elongated fangs into its ankle, jerking it off balance. It slipped off the ledge and dangled, flailing, threatening to drag the fuzor down with it. She stubborn clung on, ducking when a rosette spotted paw, claws extended, swiped at her head and caught her flank, raking four deep furrows in her synthetic flesh and fur.

"Why I'll…" Quickstrike fumed but Silverbolt held him back with a talon.

"No! That ledge is unstable, more weight on it could break it!"

"Well we can't just..."

"Stay!" Cataclysm growled out around her mouthful, digging the claws of three paws into the rock and lashing out with her fourth, making the leopard recoil. Her pride would not allow her to let go or to back down and let the bigger cat take her prize.

The sheep bleated pitifully again, flailing, and when the bigger cat moved closer to strike at Cataclysm again Quickstrike and Silverbolt hissed and growled threateningly respectively.

Cataclysm felt her paws slide again and jerked her neck to one side, bashing the sheep's head against the stone face before releasing it. Silverbolt caught its neck in his jaws as the stunned animal fell and snapped its neck humanely. Now free to turn on her foe, Cataclysm whirled back and hammered swat after swat , claws out, across the leopard's face and flank, which was not suspecting so much strength contained in such a smaller enemy and turned tail, scaling back up the mountain side in a few nimble bounds.

Huffing for breath, Cataclysm leapt down next to her comrades, not unmarked but victorious from the encounter. They both gazed at her in new respect, but for different reasons. In her Silverbolt's shining eyes saw nobility and mercy, as well as a determination worthy of honoring. Quickstrike, on the other claw, saw ruthlessness, a lust for battle and conflict.

She said nothing, neatly tearing off a chuck of flesh for herself and leaving the rest for the others. After a moment they silently accepted their own choices and ate like the predators they were.

***

Rattrap was on the verge of a conniption fit. Not only were they decidedly outnumber with Airazor and Tigatron off searching for the protoforms that had fallen in Predacon territory, not only had Primal been vaped, not only had Chopperface up and disappeared without so much as a "by your leave", now Rhinox had it set in his processor to try out some kooky invention that would put him temporarily offline for Primus knew how long!!

"We may as well put up a banner that says "Hey Preds, C'mon in fer some oil an' cookies!!" he fumed, "Did it ever occur ta ya dat we might need yer core consciousness _HERE??"_

"It can't be helped. The window the alien device exploded it opened a window into transwarp space which won't last for long…"

"So what!?" Rattrap demanded, infuriated as his giant green friend lowered the lid of his invention over him, sealing himself off from the rest of the world. Rhinox was Rattrap's one bit of stability left on this crazy dust ball and he felt almost betrayed by the rhino's failure to confide in him what he was trying to do. He glared up at Cheetor, taking out some of his pent up frustration on the cat, whom, at least seemed to accept his orders. "What are YOU lookin' at?? Get yer shiny new butt skyward and see if ya can find Chopperface before da Preds do!"

"You mean fly??" Cheetor asked, looking exhilarated at the thought.

Rattrap palmed his forehead in disgust, "Do I mean fly…NO, I mean take a submarine! Of course I mean fly!!! Now get goin'!"

"Alright!" the younger bot cheered. Ever since he'd discovered his newly acquired side jets he seemed only too happy to burn fuel doing little loopy loops over the Axalon. As much as Rattrap wanted Dinobot back at the base, though he'd never admit how vulnerable he felt without the raptor there, Rattrap would have sent the kid cat out just to get him out of his transmetal whiskers. He shook his head in annoyance as the cheetah tore out of the base, "Oy...Optimus...how did ya do it..." he sighed.

***

Terrorsaur had immediately disliked the set up one laying optics on it which Taratulas planned to used to transfer his consciousness back into his own body. He'd only been inside the spider's lab once before, and perhaps it was only the lightning storm rocking the ship outside but it gave him the creeps even more this time.

"Are you sure about this?" He muttered as he connected a final cord to Blackarachnia, hating that both she and her creator were privy to his every word when he was trying to speak to just one of them.

"Like I have a choice?" She sneered, sliding the transfer visor down into place, but not before she caught a last glimpse of the flyer's yellow optics. Was that…concern? No, she must have imagined it. "Throw the third lever down."

He eyed the lever with distaste. It reminded him of a device from ancient Human culture used to electrocute unreformable criminals. His hand hovered over the lever momentarily before he pushed it down and it locked into place. The result was instantaneous, separating Blackarachnia's sounds of distress from Tarantulas's cackles as energy coursed through her body and transferred to the shell, upheld by a large neon blue web. Eight transmetal limbs uncurled. It was similar to a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, although not nearly so fanciful.

"My spark is restored, and my body is stronger than ever! I live!" Tarantulas raved, adding to the horror movie-like atmosphere as Blackarachnia jerked and struggled against an unseen enemy. "I _LIIIIIVE!"_ His feet clanked as they landed solidly on the deckplates, revealing his new transmetal form in all its glory.

Terrorsaur moved to Blackarachnia's side as she ripped the exterior wiring from her exostructure, holding her head, "Are you alright?"

"Oh, back off, Screech!" She snapped, knocking his hand away. "Just because you boys are big bad transmetals now doesn't mean I can't vap you both if I wanted."

"Witless Widow...I…" Tarantulas paused, and then chuckled, reconsidering his words, "That is to say WE swore a Vow of fealty to our new leader…and as such we are bound to obey him…"

Terrorsaur missed the gleam of treachery in the transmetal spider's optic band due to soak up the flattery, but Blackarachnia did not. She knew instantly that whatever Tarantulas had in mind, it would be good for neither herself nor the flyer.

"That's right. And with our numbers so strong the Maximals will fall under our might like the rusted knockoffs they are!" Terrorsaur activated his com, "Inferno, Scorponok, return to base. This time we'll destroy the Maximals for good!"

***

Cheetor hadn't been gone for over a megacycle when he called back in with some very very unwelcome news. At the time he was in a decidedly distasteful position of moving his belongings into Optimus's room. The only bot he'd discussed it with so far was Rhinox, and even the rhino had stated what he already knew. If he was going to earn the respect of the remaining Maximals as their leader he'd have to call them together and say something…soon.

But it was all happening too quickly! He looked around the spacious quarters with their massive view port that faced the sunrise and felt a hollow pit deep inside. He could still clearly picture Optimus lying on that recharge bed when he was recovering from Scorponok's berserker virus. The flower Dinobot had brought him had since been transplanted into a larger pot but continued to grow.

He dropped an armload of explosive equipment on the desk with a sigh. It all felt wrong. He was never supposed to be leader! He was the demolitions and intelligence expert, that's what he had signed on for...not this. Anything but this. It felt like a bitter betrayal to Optimus's memory.

He hung his head. Primus had no intent of letting him wallow in his self-pity, however and not a click later Cheetor had radioed in to alert Rattrap, to a symphony of explosions and weapon fire, that he was leading a merry little Pred parade home and they weren't coming with a marching band neither.

"Rhinox, I hate ta interrupt yer nap…." He started as he skidded into the med bay, banging on the lid of the device.

"Attention: Unit Rhinox's core consciousness has extended beyond measurable limits. Any disturbance will result in permanent loss of spark." Sentinel's monotone voice replied.

"Oh...sure...now there's some GREAT timin' fer ya..."

The lift behind him whirred to life as a muddy but more than welcome Dinobot stomped in. Rattrap was so happy to see him he even missed the chance to make a snide remark about the mess the former Predacon had tracked in all over the floor.

"What is happening? Sentinel is on alert!" The raptor growled, pointing out the obvious.

"Hey, Chopperface!" His red optics lit up then to cover his enthusiasm, Rattrap cleared his throat, "Hey uh...where have you been, out saving da universe er somethin'?"

"Possibly. Yes. Now what is the emergency??"

Rattrap glared as Dinobot lowered the reserve weapons hold, blocking off vision of the raptor so he wasn't even sure he was listening, "Oh...uh...nothin' much...Rhinox is off chasin' comets with his mind and uh, Cheetor's bringin' a squad a' Preds home ta play…of course if dey hit dis place Big green dere goes permanently offline."

"Well then…" Dinobot replied, sounding infuriatingly calm as the hold locked back into place in the ceiling, revealing he was , literally, armed to the teeth, "We must take the fight to the enemy" He tossed Rattrap a blaster. The rat blinked then nodded, clicking on his com.

"Three a' us against seven Preds? We may as well paint bull's eyes on ourselves and offer prizes for knockin' down all three. We nee back up. Bad. Yo Bird lady…ya read me? We got Preds comin' outta our tail pipes over here. They're gonna be swarmin' da base in less than a megacycle. We need immediate backup, like NOW!"

***

Airazor soared high above in falcon mode, her optics set on scanner. She and Tigatron had narrowly avoided a run in with Inferno and the newly transmetalized Scorponok earlier on their way back to the Darkside and she was none too keen on engaging the pyromaniac ant if it were avoidable. The pods had been empty and the Predacons had not thought to salvage them so Tigatron had destroyed them incase they came back.

For the past several megacycles they had been scanning the area surrounding the pods' landing location, gradually widening their search, but so far there was no sign of the new Maximals. She was just about to give up hope when Tigatron's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Airazor, I have detected three Maximal signals in the sector of Tanna-16 at the Predacon border. I am on my way to intercept them. Recon at my coordinates as soon as possibly."

"Will do, Stripes. Be careful."

"As always, but what have we to fear, m'lady? They are Maximals, after all."

***

After sharing her kill Cataclysm lay off to one side, as cats are known to do, swiping her tongue over her paw and cleaning her whiskers of blood drop lets. The sector had once been a place of great beauty with a towering mountain and shimmering blue lake but now all that was reduced to rubble and a great indenting dust bowl.

As the fuzors had never seen it in its full glory, they felt none of the sense of lose. Presently the only beauty Quickstrike was interested in admiring in any case was that of the female fuzor. Something about her red and gold coloring just set his processors on fire...in a pleasant way, of course.

"You sure do know how ta dish out the keister whooping destruction, iffen ya know what I mean, Sugar-bot."

"Oh, sod off…" she sighed in irritation, her fur bristling a bit. She tilted her head, her ever alert ears picking up the faintest crackling of paw steps on dead leaves and dislodged rubble long before her olfactory sensors located the tiger. After her recent experience with the snow leopard, she was in a distinctly attack first, ask questions later mood.

With a vicious snarl so whirled and threw herself into the brush onto the striped Maximals back. Tigatron growled, getting no chance to get out a word before Quickstrike and Silverbolt reacted in defense of cataclysm.

By the time Airazor came upon them they were tangled in a flailing mass of fur, claws, feathers, and fangs. Like a shooting star she dropped down with an earsplitting falcon screech," Stop this right now!" She yelped when Quickstrike's tail caught one of her wings by accident and knocked her from the air.

"Airazor!" Tigatron quickly detangled himself from the battle to check on his fallen mate, "Are you alright?"

"Fine. But why are you fighting? From the air I detected all three of these bots have Maximal energy signatures."

"He done snuck up on us an' attacked my sugar-bot!" Quickstrike hissed in accusation.

"I did nothing of the sort!"

"And** STOP** calling me that, ya bloody git!"

Under the fierce looks of both Tigatron and Cataclysm Quickstrike shrunk back and relented, muttering under his breath about tinhorn stripy sidewinders.

"We intended no insult, m'lady. Merely a grave misunderstanding, I assure you," Silverbolt addressed Airazor, his wings tucked back in the manner a gentleman might sweep back his cape in respect and apology.

She ducked her head in acknowledgement, "I'm Airazor. This is Tigatron. What are your names?"

"I'm Quickstrike! This here's Silverbolt, and over here..." he chuckled affectionately, "Is my Sugar-bot, Cataclysm."

"I'm not…" she sighed loudly through her teeth, "Whatever…"

Suddenly Airazor's com flared to life,"Yo Bird lady…ya read me? *static*...got Preds comin' outta our tail pipes…*static* immediate…*static* like NOW!"

"We're on our way Rattrap!"

"The Predacons are attacking the Maximal base, we have to hurry..." she shot a worried look at Tigatron whom returned it.

"What in tarnation's a' Maximal?"

"What the bloody Pit's a Predacon?"

Airazor and Tigatron blinked in surprise, sharing another understanding look. Like the fuzors, their data tracks had been badly damaged upon planet fall. Only Cheetor offering his own data tracks to fill in the gaps on Airazor's and the maximal rescue of Tigatron and Snowstalker, his beloved former organic white tiger mate, had allowed them to realize their true Maximal nature. These poor bots had neither and were thus completely confused.

"On Cybertron because we are descended from two factions, Autobots and Decepticons, we Cybertronians are born into one faction or the other, Maximals or Predacons. Maximals are peaceful bots who only long to co-exist but the Predacons strive to destroy and control everything in their paths. We've been at war with them on this unknown planet for over a stellar year now. Our leader was recently killed and now the Predacons are taking advantage of that and our absence to attack our base.

Silverbolt stared in horror, "These Predacons sound like absolute cads…"

"Wankers," Cataclysm voiced her opinion.

"Er...what she said," Quickstrike shrugged, unable to come up with a new and creative insult.

Airazor had no idea what a "cad" or a "wanker" might be but she had little time to ask for explanation as she turned to Tigatron, "We have to get back as fast as we can. You run ahead. I'll carry you, Quickstrike. Silverbolt, you carry Cataclysm."

Quickstrike seemed ready to object, both to being carried like a sparkling and to the idea of Silverbolt putting his claws all over the scorpion fuzor's "Sugar-bot" but before he could say more than "This sucks hard slag…WHOA!" he was plucked from the ground and soaring through the air. To a bot made up of two distinctly terrestrial creatures the only way to keep himself from moaning in distress with nothing under his legs to support him was to cover his red eyes with his claws.

In contrast Cataclysm hissed at Silverbolt when he bent his front legs, lower himself so she could climb on his back, "I'll not be treated like a soddin' infant! My legs work just fine!"

"Please, M'lady, time is of the essence…" he gave her a guileless beseeching look that made her hackles lower somewhat though she huffed before she leapt up and sat between his wings, "If I'd wanted to fly I'd have scanned a bloody pigeon…"

***

Terrorsaur was in his element. Namely he was screeching order left and right and not one, not ONE of the Predacons thought to argue, or if they did, they knew better than to do so in the face of battle. Currently they had Dinobot, Rattrap, and Cheetor pinned down behind a large rock which was being chipped away at by explosives and laser blasts.

"We destroy Maximals eazzzzily!" Waspinator chortled on his left.

"Too easily…even Maximals have better logic circuits than this..." Blackarachnia scowled, on his right, "They should have fallen back to their base 20 cycles ago…"

Terrorsaur's trigger finger twitched then went lax as he looked at Blackarachnia in surprise, wondering why he hadn't thought of that, "What HAVEN'T they fallen back?" He frowned them narrowed his optics, zeroing in on the Axalon's location behind the trapped Maximals. That was the first time he noticed the strange energy beam radiating up from the crippled ship. He had no way of knowing what it was, but if the Maximals were defending it, that was enough, "Waspinator, take Inferno and bomb the ship. Tear it to scrap."

The wasp clapped his hands together, beaming, "Wazzzpinator iz in charge!" he declared as he kicked off, transforming to beast mode mid flip and lead the ant off, shooting past the Maximals.

"It would seem that have decoded our strategy," Dinobot stated manner of factly.

"No kidding! If we don't beat them back…" Rattrap winced as a large chunk of rock over his head was dissolved in a laser blast, "Cheetor, you gotta cut dem off…"

"I need a running start to take off," Cheetor stammered, no doubt picturing the stone they'd thrown up moments before into the Pred fire only to have a pebble remaining when it fell again.

"Oh fer bootin' up cold…" Rattrap fumed then gave the kid cat a good kick in the skid plates, sending him flying three meters into the air. It MIGHT have worked but no sooner had Cheetor engaged his jets than Blackarachnia opened fire on him with all six of her leg guns, blastin one of his jets clean off.

Terrorsaur cackled as the cat crashed to the ground then gave Blackarachnia an appreciative look. He was starting to feel more and more confidence that he had made the right decision not scrapping her after rescuing her from the tiger and the hawk.

"Cheetor!" Rattrap yelped, horrified as he pulled the cat back into cover, "Cheetor...Cheetor, speak ta me, kid!"

"Ow..." the transmetal cat coughed out a little cloud of smoke, "M-maybe you're right, maybe I do need a couple more...flying lessons..."

"More like _landing _lessons. Ferget about that fer now. We gotta get back tad a base before…" Rattrap froze, his optics wide with shock as an explosion rocked the ground and the base. From where he crouched he could see flames rising from the aft section of the Axalon as the beam of light which represented Rhinox's consciousness flickered, then vanisehed, "No..no..NO! NO! RHINOX!!!"

He struggled to stand only to be pulled back by Dinobot's vice like grip as the raptor held him down out of the range of enemy fire. "There is nothing you can do for him now! Do not be foolish, you'll only get yourself destroyed!"

_**"Shut up! SHUT UP! I gotta go...I gotta...Rhinox..."**_

"_Is GONE, Rattrap,"_ the warrior shook him hard enough to momentarily snap him out of his shock, though as much by the raptor using his actual name instead of "rodent" or "vermin" as the servo jarring shake. It showed how deeply the gravity of the situation effected Dinobot, though if he felt grief, he would not let it alter his actions until the battle was over.

For the first time the level of Dinobot's warrior training and discipline really occurred to the smaller Maximal and he found himself looking up into the sharp blue face with a new level of respect. He closed his mouth and pressed his lips together in a grim line, narrowing his optics and nodding once. It slipped his notice that a barely visible glimmer of new respect had also entered Dinobot's optics.

For once, though it was very likely true, Rattrap did not blurt out his patterned "We're all gonna die" announcement but merely discharged his spent energy cartridge from his blaster and loaded the last full one he had from his sub-space compartment, "If we're going tad a Pit, let's take a few a dem with us."

"That may be the first utterance of yours I have ever fully agreed with, Vermin."

***

"By the _Matrix_…" Tigatron breathed as he stared down in horror upon the scared and burning battle field. Airazor and Silverbolt landed next to him with their respective passengers, all five wide eyed at the carnage. "We can not wait to assess the situation while our comrades fall. Tigatron, maximize!!"

All three fuzors reacted in shock as the tiger shifted into his white and green robot mode, charging his blaster.

"How in tarnation'd he do **THAT?!"** Quickstrike demanded, his voice going up a number of octaves.

"Use your activation codes. Airazor, Maximize!" The female falcon gracefully transformed into a sleek gold and brown robot as the stunned fuzors looked on.

"Now, hold on there…", Quickstrike objected, still processing this, "Ya mean, all's I gotta say is "Quickstrike, Maximize", and…**WHAT IN TARNATION?!"** He shouted out as he flipped forward into robot mode, his claws now firmly planted on the ground as feet, his tail swaying disorientedly from one shoulder as an arm. The other arm was made up of his multi-jointed scorpion legs.

Silverbolt and Cataclysm exchanged an excited look then in unison called out their activation codes, "Silverbolt/Cataclysm, MAXIMIZE!" before unfolding into two very different bots. Silverbolt's eagle wings now folded angel-like onto his broad back and his claws, like Quickstrike's have become his robot feet. More surprisingly his face very much resembled that of his beast mode with a blunt muzzle in place of a nose and mouth.

Cataclysm sported a lithe, athletic figure similar to Airazor's with a bit more curve at the chest and hip. In bot mode she was mostly red and gold with black trim. Her rattle snake tail remained attached to her skid plates as most of her best mode had folded onto her back except for her hind paws which had relocated and formed her bot mode feet with much longer claws extended. Her face, like Silverbolt's was reminiscent of her beast mode with a smooth feline muzzle, exotically tilted narrow cat optics and black markings on her face. Two sharp, pointed ears topped her head.

The three fuzors had little time to regard each others' new appearances, for they were soon caught up in the battle charge, letting out roars, howls, and in Quickstrike's case, "Yeeee-haws!" as they tore down the incline to attack the unaware Predacons from behind.

***

Rattrap crouched over the injured Cheetor, shielding his younger charge as one of Terrorsaur's missiles blew their last cover to shards and sent the three Maximals tumbling backwards. As the rodent sat up, coughing and hacking, he found himself staring up the black barrel of Terrorsaur's blaster rifle aimed right between his optics.

"As I said once before…this is just too good to be true…"

Rattrap swallowed hard but narrowed his optics, then jerked back in shock as a spinning blade whirled through the air and took Terrorsaur's hand off at the wrist, "Looks like ya jinxed yerself again, Leatherpuss!"

"What?!" Terrorsaur spun on his heel then shrieked as Cataclysm landed on his back, raking her claws down his armor like a can opener, spraying mech fluid in an arch as he flailed and screeched, trying to dislodge her.

"Foul Villains, prepare to meet thy doom!" Silverbolt trumpeted as he launched his feather missiles on Tarantulas and Scorponok.

Rattrap blinked in shock then shot Dinobot a look as Inferno and Waspinator returned, sparring with Tigatron and Airazor, "Well what're ya waitin' for, an engraved invitation?!"

"Accursed rodent…" the warrior muttered then launched himself into battle, hacking away at Inferno's rotator engine until the fire ant crashed. Even grounded the insanely zealous ant cackled wildly as he blasted away at his enemies with his twin flame throwers.

"I got this one!" Quickstrike called out, blasting the ant from behind with a burst of green cyber venom from his cobra head.

"Fools!! _Pain is my friend! Allow me to introduce YOU to it!"_

Rattrap and Terrorsaur rolled across the scorched ground trading punches as Cataclysm sprinted forward and used a surprised Dinobot's back as a springboard to launch herself into the air, her lethal claws slicing Waspinator's wings from his shoulders. The wasp fell like a stone as the feline landed in a crouch. Dinobot caught her optics, his own slightly widened in shock, then he nodded in approval. Unorthodox, but none the less effective.

Waspinator groaned as he laid face down, being trampled by dueling Maximals and Predacons who took little notice of him, "Oooooh, Wazzzpinator hatez Bird-bot AND Kitty-bot…"

"That's my Sugar-bot!" Quickstrike whooped.

**"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"** she snarled as she turned on Scorponok, taking out her frustration at her fellow fuzor on the arachnid's shiny black caprice.

"This is all _wrong_… this isn't how it was supposed to go at all!" Terrorsaur shrieked, looking around in bewilderment at his battered troops, most of them unable to hold their own against the fresh Maximal reinforcements.

"Stick it in yer command module, Beak-face!" Rattrap snarled, upper cutting the flyer hard enough to make him stagger back. He tripped over Waspinator's body and fell on his skid plates. He shot another glance around the battle field then gathered up Waspinator's wings and the wasp himself, _"Predacons retreat!!"_

"Yes, my Princess!" Inferno saluted, no longer able to fly but retreating on foot at a brisk pace. The spiders and Scorponok needed no further encouragement before doing the same.

Winded but proud of their stand, Rattrap stood surrounded by his comrades, old and new, bloodied, dented, but alive. He felt a cold dread in his spark though as he looked back towards the base, knowing what they would find there.

***

The damage was repairable, for the most part, and after short introductions, the Maximals set about assessing the damage. To rattrap, not of it mattered, not the hole in the roof or the scorched hallways or the friend computer components… all that matters at the moment was the cold green shell he sat silently in the same room as.

The rodent sat with his head in his hands, hunched over, hardly noticing when Cheetor cleared his throat from the doorway, "Um...Hey Big R...we cleared out the burnt metal and patched the hole in the roof temperarily."

Rattrap wiped at a drop of clear moisture from the edge of one optic housing and straightened up, "G-good...good job, kiddo. You uh...better clock some megacycles in the restoration chamber." He glanced up at the three fuzors as well as the two long distance scouts, "I know yer uh...all damaged but we only got da one operation restoration chamber without Rhi..." His vocalizer failed him and he tried again, "Without our medical officer, we don't got no body ta do patch up jobs…"

Silence fell for a long moment then suddenly an accented voice spoke up, "Bloody Inferno that we don't." All optics turned to Cataclysm and for the first time since her reactivation, the femme smiled a bit nervously.

***

"It's all wrong…" Terrorsaur growled, beating his helm against one of the walls in his quarters, formerly Megatron's quarters. Despite their defeat no one had offered criticism, just drug themselves off to the CR tanks with mutters of discontent. After depositing Waspinator in one of the tanks Terrorsaur had stalked off to seclude himself and brood. Now he was starting to understand why Megatron talked to himself so much. They should have had a victory. He was so sure this battle would end in the ultimate victory.

Not even his new spacious quarters could improve his mood. And they were a considerable upgrade from his old ones. The recharge berth itself, situated in the middle of the room instead of crushed up against one wall, was twice the size of the one in his former quarter. If any room could be said to have a decent view on the Darkside, this one had at least an interesting one of the lava beds underneath the ship.

"What?" he snapped as someone knocked on his door. He hadn't meant to snap. His nerves were frayed. He felt a twinge of guilt knowing it was likely as not Waspinator coming to check on him. He sighed and entered a code in the keypad by the door, "Look, I…"

He froze, finding himself face to face with a smug looking Blackarachnia.

"Stress of the job already getting to you, Screech?"

"No," he frowned then peered around her. There was no one else in the hall. He couldn't begin to phantom what possible reason the she-spider had for approaching him until she traced the tip end of her claw up his chest slowly.

"I suppose it is a big change...those huge quarters…and no one to share them with…" Her claw made a soft squeaking sound as she traced the contours of his torso armor. "You know transmetal armor looks pretty good on you."

He swallowed, trying to come up with a scathing retort, something that would really get her spinnerets in a tangle, but found he could only choke out, "You…think so?"

She smirked slyly and he felt his fluid pump speed up into over time. Naturally, there were few males, Predacon or Maximal, whom had not had some thoughts about the slender and shapely femme fatale but Terrorsaur had always felt particularly drawn to her. In his optics, they were two of a kind, both repressed for their cunning and intelligence, both knowing they were meant to be more.

"Why don't we step inside and I'll give you a full debriefing on what I really think..." she all but purred and after a nano-click he let her enter.

Neither saw poor Waspinator as he stood at the end of the corridor, his green hands clenched into fists, then slowly, slowly, they went lax at his sides and his wings drooped as he turned and walked away.

***

_~Who am I? Where do I belong?~_ A lost mind pondered hopelessly.

Curled up in a nook inside an old tree, the small lost bot in her even smaller beast mode wrapped her wings around her to shelter herself from the cold. Like Terrorsaur, like Rattrap, her world was strange, full of surprises, and she was carefully feeling her way along through it, like a blind man. However, unlike them, she had no one to share the experience with. She was alone in every sense of the world because she no longer remember she had comrades out there, seeking her, trying to bring her home safely.

_~Where do I belong?~_

To Be Continued---

***

_Author's Notes: Tanna-16 is property of Shockbox, literally. A little salute to my friend and amazing completed fic "The Scarlet Star". As are the little hints of Terrorsaur/Waspinator slash. My first battle scene in years and I'm pretty proud of it, really. Like I said before, one thing changes, so many things change. For those of you that are Rhinox fans, sorry, he's very very hard for me to write. After this, things depart from the original plot a great deal. Surprises are in store! Loves to all!_


	4. Looking Toward Tomorrow

**Rewritten in the Stars**

**By Onyxfang 2008**

_Don't judge me _

_You could be me in another life _

_In another set of circumstances _

_Don't judge me _

_One more night _

_I'll just have to take my chances _

_And tomorrow we'll see _

_A friend of mine he wound up dead _

_His robe was stained the colour red _

_No next of kin no fixed abode_

_Another victim on this road _

_The police just carted him away _

_But someone took his place next day _

_He was home by Thanksgiving _

_But not with the living _

_Don't judge me _

_You could be me in another life _

_In another set of circumstances _

_Don't judge me _

_One more night _

_I'll just have to take my chances _

_And no it's just not in my plan _

_For someone to care who I am _

_Don't judge me _

_You could be me in another life _

_In another set of circumstances _

_Don't judge me _

_One more night_

_I'll just have to take my chances _

_And tomorrow we'll see_

_~Sting, Tomorrow We'll See, 1999_

***

Rattrap sat alone with the shell of what had once been his best friend. He couldn't bring himself to do what he knew he had to and thus it had fallen on the shoulders of Cheetor and Dinobot to build the Requiem, a relatively simple cremation device. The supplies for it were as commonplace a requirement in the event that one of the crew met with something unforeseen as the blank stasis pods in the cargo hold and the fully equipped medical lab. Dinobot seemed to have experience with such things, no surprise considering he had seen many a death on the battlefield. What was surprising was how he seemed to respect Rattrap's grief and never once offered a jeer or snide remark about the silver and chrome transmetalized rodent not aiding in the construction.

In the hall off to the left Rattrap's keen sense of hearing picked up the voices of the two of the fuzors. After being patched up, Silverbolt was helping Tigatron and Airazor carry out the components for the Requiem to the desired location just outside the base, facing the sunrise when it would come in the next few megacycles.

"Quickstrike, I've already looked you over_ six_ times, all you have is couple o' bloody dents and a _minor scorch mark!"_ Cataclysm hissed, her accent more noticeably when she was annoyed, which was frequently the case.

"I got a' creak in my joints up here 'bouts in this here shoulder. Feels like some wiring got pulled loose," he whined softly, clearly intent on earning more of her physical contact.

"I've already checked that shoulder, ya barmy ole nutter…"

"_Knock it off!"_ Rattrap turned sharply, his optics blazing as their voiced grated on his nerves.

Both blinked in surprise. He felt a little guilt, since neither of them had known Rhinox, or Optimus for that matter, thus naturally they could not share his grief, but his guilt held no flicker to his pent up frustration and a lingering scowl saw them off, but not before he caught the young female muttering, "Blimey, he's sure got his knickers in a right twist.."

"Leave the Vermin be," Dinobot snarled as he entered and the feline fuzor huffed, muttering to Quickstrike, "They're all a rather shirty lot…"

Another snarl from the raptor dissuaded any further commentary. He stalked over next to Rattrap and stood silently at his side for a cycle, "We are ready to proceed…"

"Yeah uh..." Rattrap nodded, unwilling to lose face in front of the raptor as he expected Dinobot to reassert his claim on leadership of the Maximals at any given moment, "Just, uh, gimme a' minute…"

"It will not be easier one minute from now nor one megacycle or even a stellar cycle, Rodent. The dead must be honored. It is all we can do for them now."

He looked up sharply, ready to formulate an argument then found he had none to offer, "I'm gonna miss 'em."

Rather than making some snide remark about Maximal sentiment the tall warrior merely nodded, "Their demise be notes the manner in which their lives were lived. Selfless, courageous, honorable. Their sparks are no doubt among the greatest of Cybertron now."

He laughed weakly, trying to smile, "Ya ain't going soft on me now, are ya, Chopperface?" A snarl and the tip of Dinobot's sword being buried between Rattrap's feet a click later answered his question and he flinched sharply, "I guess _not…"_

"You do well to watch your tongue before making such ill-advised accusations, _Vermin."_

Rattrap shook his head then stood up and crossed the room, sighing as he stared down at Rhinox's empty shell before sliding his hand under the broad shoulders and trying to lift him. His servos whined piteously, arms threatening to rip from the joints at his shoulders but he stubbornly refused to give up even at the cost of his own pain. Rhinox was his friend. They had nobody to create for Optimus but Rattrap would not allow Rhinox's exostructure to be carried out without having a hand in the process.

Suddenly the unbearably heavy load lightened considerably. Not that he wasn't still heavy, but Rattrap now found he could lift Rhinox's shoulders even though it strained him to his limit to do so. He glanced up in confusion and found Dinobot gripping the large green bot's body at the knees, baring more than half the weight. Speechless, he could only nod his gratitude, which Dinobot returned wordlessly in acknowledgement.

Shortly later they had position the shell on the Requiem's podium with some help from Cheetor. Members of the original crew only helped to bare the body to its final resting place, as it should have been. The rest of the Maximals stood at attention nearby, paying their respects. A number of wild flowers, the kind the rhino so loved to spend his days smelling, were piled around the funeral device.

Airazor, Cheetor, and Silverbolt departed to take part in the traditional missing man formation, leaving Cataclysm, Tigatron, Quickstrike, Rattrap, and Dinobot to form a semi-circle around the podium. Rattrap was grateful the fuzors were silence for once and Tigatron was at the device's controls, especially when the raptor cleared his throat.

"Though it is an inopportune time, the Predacons are no doubt formulating another attack strategy now hat they have los the advantage of outnumbering us. They will want to strike why we are still...disorganized, without a formally entitled leader…"

"Sounds like da Preds alright…I suppose ya want a duel then…"

"That would be dishonorable…"

For the first time Rattrap looked away from the podium as it built up a charge in the generators**, "Eh?"**

"You grieve for your friends. This would further impede upon your performance in such a duel where you are already far outmatched…"

_"Hey!"_

"…such being the case, I can not honorable challenge you for leadership. But I must also honor Primal and Rhinox's wishes. They would regard you as the most likely candidate to fulfill the role, someone these…young ones would follow confidently into battle without doubts plaguing their minds due to you background, sordid as it may be. Therefore despite my superior warrior skills, I will accept your leadership…_for now."_

He blinked in shock. Had Dinobot just…_complimented him?_ Flabbergasted, he swallowed slowly, watching as Rhinox's empty shell slowly melted back into its liquefied protoform state, familiar features fading into blank silvery smoothness which then crystalified, gleaming a shimmering green.

The crystals shattered apart into sparkling dust, carried away on the first morning breeze as the shadows of the three flyers briefly engulfed them except for a gap symbolic of the missing man. In this case it was twice as wide, as if living room for two fallen comrades.

Rattrap squinted as the flyers zoomed away, the first rays of sunlight gleaming off Silverbolt's golden wings and Cheetor's turquoise armor. "You know uh...dis whole thing woulda been simplier if da the Boss Monkey had ever chosen an official Second in Command. I'm just thinkin'…if I'm gonna keep those kids alive till dis war ends...might help if dey had a little more authority around. Someone that can scare da slag outta dem when dey step outta line…ya interested in da job?"

Dinobot paused, then snorted, crossing his arms, a pose Rattrap had already taken, "I suppose **SOMEONE **should see to it that an amount of discipline is imposed so that you don't all end up in the _scrap heap_…"

"Dat a yes er what?"

"Affirmative, Vermin."

***

In the night she heard screams. Terrible screams of battle and roars as she cowered in her little hole in the tree, waiting for the end. They were screams of anger, pain and loss that cut the night like claws and spoke of an apocalypse with their terror. But come sunrise, the world had not ended.

She hesitated then stuck her beak out of the hole timidly, then her head, expecting it to be bitten off at any second. The air reeked of blood and her audio sensors were overwhelmed by the buzzing of flies.

Dropping down to the ground she moved closer to the source. Her beast mode feet were awkward and she tripped on a protruding root, rolling down the embankment side. In an effort to stop she transformed mid roll, grabbing for a hand hold, then can to an abrupt halt as she landed on something wet. And rotting. A dense black cloud of flies rose up swarmed around her face before dispursing. She gasped and sat up, her hands covered with gore. She was half straddling the corpse of a massive machairodus, a thickly muscled large saber tooth cat. This one had had a run in with one of the swamps even more formidable predators, a sarcosuchus, a 40-foot long member of the crocodilian family.

She shuddered as she stared at the blood on the long, serrated teeth. This creature had put up quite the fight. Wary that its killer might still be around she carefully eased herself down to the water's edge and washed the blood away from her armor. At first all she could hear was the quite lapping of the water on the bank, but then she heard the soft, piteous yowls coming from the west.

It was high and grating, like something wounded and afraid. The female bot did not know her weapons system yet but all the same her optic lasers powered up instinctively as she moved towards the source of the sound.

It echoed up from a crack in the rocks which opened down into an underground cave system. Bones of large prey animals littered the floor and cracked under her feet when she stood up. She stifled a cry as she stepped on a bird skull which shattered like glass. Nearby a hiss echoed in the naturally formed corridor. Not a snake, for it was not a dry hiss, but rather one full of fear and defiance.

Nestled in a cache of bones and fur bits was a kit, a sabre tooth cub, no doubt the orphan of the slain behemoth by the waterside. It pressed its small rump into a corner and bared its fangs, pelt standing on end. Her fluid pump ached and she crouched down close by, watching the feral pupils contracting in the darkness. Her sensors told her the little animal's heart beat had just increased significantly. She made a calming, cooing sound, reaching out a hand to it. The juvenile cat growled a warning then swiped his claws across her outstretched palm, leaving painful scratches on her armor but not drawing mech fluid.

The femme reconsidered her approach and left the cave, returning shortly later with a plump squirrel which she offered to the cat. Having little to no idea who or what she was, she felt no regret or shame hunting like a wild animal to fuel her systems and fill her beast mode stomach. It was all she knew, other than the flickers of memory that remained scattered like five or six pieces of a thousand piece puzzle, showing only hints of color but giving little clue to the greater picture.

Tempted by the scent of flesh blood from the cooling squirrel, the kit edged forward hesitantly. Its whiskers flicked and it parts its black lips, panting softly, and breathing in the scent. One paw crept closer then snagged the squirrel away, ripping into it with zeal, splattering blood.

She pulled her knees up against her chest and watched him with a keen interest. Her scanners told him that, unlike her, a metal construct with alien content to this world, this creature was fully of flesh mold and would not understand her words. Still, she crooned to him softly in Cybertronian dialect 16.

"It's alright…alright, Little One. I know what it is to be alone. I have no one either. I don't know if they were killed by you or abandoned me, but it makes me no less alone either way. Perhaps now we can be alone together, and so not so alone..."

She dipped her fingers in the skill warm blood spatters and let him sniff them. The kit lifted his head and licked the blood then tried to bite her fingers with his growing sabers. He waddled forward shyly, following her hand as she drew it against her breast, and then crawled into her lap.

"I am…"

She paused, her head tilted to one side. Another flicker of memory, like an electric current passed through her processor.

Following the end of _The Great War_, Divebomb of the original Predacons had rebuilt Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ravage into Predacons as part of a secret project to overthrow the Maximals. Few knew this but this but it passed from Predacon audio to audio in whispered rumors of hope. Covert Agent Ravage had swiftly grown discontented and took a position of honor under the Tripredacus Council. When Megatron and his crew of Preds stole the Golden Disc, Divebomb, knowing of his plans to alter history, ordered Laserbeak and Buzzsaw's ship to assist them. Their interception and the firefight that followed badly damaged the _Axalon_, but they were distracted by the Maximal ship _Chromia 10_ long enough for the _Axalon_ to locate their weak spot and destroy them.

Naturally she did not recall all of this, having been in stasis during the attack on the Axalon, but perhaps Laserbeak's ghost was still, like Starscream's lingering in the Earthen atmosphere, refusing to succumb to the Pit so easily. Or perhaps she just recalled the name from her studies at the academy for it occurred to her all at once and stuck her for some reason to have a powerful connection to her, to her beast mode. "I am Laserbeak. And you…you shall be…"_**Semper Fidelis**_", "Always faithful."" She smiled brightly, finding this fitting. Several words in the odd language of Latin circulated in her CPU, although she did not know why, or even that they were Latin. They were just there.

Semper kneaded at her leathery beast mode bits and snuggled in, purring as he absorbed the warmth radiating from her system. She hummed softly to him and stroked his fur, feeling a different kind of warmth, an emotional one, flood through her.

***

Rattrap squinted at the computer screen. According to the log the crew included the original four members plus 6 stasis locked members. At first it didn't add up because by the records 11 pods had been jettisoned into space orbiting the planet, but then he remembered Airazor, Tigatron, and few others associated with them were not included in the initial count.

Airazor, formerly Wing Saber, was the pilot of the Chromia 10. In the past she led one of the numerous Maximal squadrons assigned to prevent any rogue Predacon factions from operating outside the terms of the Pax Cybertronia.

When the Predacons under Megatron's command stole the Golden Disk they were pursued by a team from the Maximal Command Security Forces. Unit 2, as he was known, was granted clearance from Maximal Defense Command to commandeer transport and intercepted Wing Saber while she was boarding her ship, the _Chromia 10_. Naturally, knowing Airazor as he did now, Rattrap could imagine she gave him quite the tongue lashing before she allowed him to hitch a ride, piloting it herself. The Chromia 10 had intercepted the Predacons' ship, the _Darkside_ , which at the time was already engaged in battle with the _Axalon_ and guarded by a mysterious third ship. During the ensuing firefight, the _Chromia 10_ was badly damaged beyond the ability to land or return home. Under Optimus's orders Rhinox had uploaded the sparks of Wing saber, Unit 2, Unit 1, Unit 3, and Unit 4 into blank protoforms in the _Axalon's_ cargo hold in order to save their lives. Unit 2 later became Tigatron. As for his crew, Rattrap suspected Unit 13, their medic, was now Cataclysm, and Units 26 and 66, first lieutenant and weapons specialist, accounted for Silverbolt and Quickstrike.

That left him with 6 pods to account for and he checked them off according to directive listed in the Axalon's records. Captain, Optimus Primal, of course. Helmsman and long range scout, Cheetor. Technician and medical officer, Rhinox. A pang surged through his spark. Intelligence and demolitions, Rattrap himself. Back up technician and engineer, Blackarachnia no doubt. Two Maximals Peace Keeper officers, fresh out of the academy. One was likely Inferno. That left one other officer, their organic life forms biologist, their paleontologist, and the botanist, any of whom could have been the sparkless stasis pod they recently found in their territory.

He rubbed his faceplate nervously. The responsibility of leadership weighed heavier on his shoulders all the time. He couldn't allow any of the three remaining stasis pods to fall into Pred hands and the Quantum Surge had no doubt knocked them all out of orbit and to the planet level. They were out there, no doubt about it. And now it was a race. A race to grow their forces or keep the enemy from adding to theirs. Right now the number of Predacons and Maximals were balanced pretty well, leaning slightly by one in Maximal favor.

He looked up at a familiar growl behind him. "The perimeter is secure…"

"Good…" he paused, listening to the faint echoes of laughter from the ship's recreation room, "You know, those kids…that's all they are, really, just…"

"_Children,"_ Dinobot agreed, "But the occasion arises when children must be forced to put away childish things. This is such a time. They must be forced into adulthood for their own safety. War has no mercy on the young and naïve."

Rattrap nodded, drawing in a breath as he turned his chair to face Dinobot, voicing a question he'd never thought he'd ask seriously. "What would you do?"

In the darkened chamber only the flashed of the control panel occasionally lighting up and the ominous glow of Dinobot's red optics cast an relief on his sharply chiseled face, making him seem even more menacing, "Train them. As I was trained."

"Ya can do that?" One of Rattrap's ruby optics squinted skeptically up at the fall taller bot, his height magnified by Rattrap's sitting position.

"Affirmative. However…in order to convince them certain measures might be required...of a less than Maximal nature."

Rattrap sighed loudly, "I figured…just…don't kill any of 'em, okay? No matter how annoying dey get."

The raptor hissed a cold sound and if he could have seen his face, Rattrap would have thought he was holding back a laugh as he left the rodent commander to his thoughts.

***

"So I whizzed past him and BAM! His own missile blew them both up! **KA-POW!"** Cheetor smacked his open palm with a fist, grinning widely as the other three young bots sat around the table, optics wide. On several occasions Quickstrike had attempted to sneak his cobra head arm in a position around Cataclysm's shoulder, only to receive a glare and a painful elbow to the rib area.

Quickstrike and Cataclysm chuckled but Silverbolt's seemed rather insincere, smiling blandly as he commented, "Ho ho, yes, most amusing..."

The laughter died away and Cheetor looked at the bird-dog's fellow fuzors, one optic ridge arched,"Does he_ ALWAYS_ talk like that?"

"Yes," they nodded in unison. Quickstrike took another jab to the ribs and a most venomous warning look, after which he allowed his arm, formerly his tail, to fall at his side.

"Ultra drag, dudes..."

"He can be a right barmy ponce sometimes. It's all I can bloody well do not ta pop him right in the conk and bung his smarmy arse in the dirt…"

"…_what_ did she just say?!"

Quickstrike seemed to grin, "Dunno, but ain't she a little fire-ball?"

Suddenly the tip of a rotating sword stabbed down into the table top in front of them, striking them all mute in shock. They looked up as Dinobot as he removed his blade, "Enough talk! You shall all retire to your quarters now for recharging. I have been given full authority to commence with your training as true warriors, though I doubt I shall see any such results. However, you shall need all your energy for tomorrow."

"Why? What starts tomorrow?" Cheetor asked nervously, not liking the vicious grin that nearly split the raptor's face in half, giving them all a good view of the rows of sharp pointed teeth. They all recoiled instinctively as Dinobot relished the two uttered words,** "Boot Camp."**

***

"So...what did you need to talk about?" Terrorsaur asked nervously, seating himself on the edge of his, formerly Megatron's, large recharge berth and gesturing for Blackarachnia to take a seat in the rolling chair by the computer. She scorned this in favor of seating herself next to him and he swallowed hard.

"Who said anything about talking…" the tip of her black and gold claw traced down under the edge of his chest armor, plucking at a wire and making him jump slightly in response. He scooted away a bit.

"Look, Blackarachnia, I..." he trailed off as she closed the gap with a steamy kiss, pressing against him. Her taste was intoxicating but he vaguely wondered if there might be a small portion of poison mixed into it, leading to the tingling feeling in his mouth and glossa as he opened his mouth to admit her advances. He was dimly aware of her claw tracing a line to his armor latches then he jerked away.

"Whoa, whoa..." He held up a hand uneasily, taking several deep breaths.

"What's the matter?"

"Matter...matter...nothing just..." He held up a hand to ward her off when she moved closer to him, his processor whirring frantically, generating mixed emotions, a blur of nonsensical shapes and colors in his confused panic. "It's just we hardly know each other. I mean...I like you. There's a lot…." He paused looking her over, "To like about you. And you have a certain scheming cleverness I admire, really, but you're also direct about..." His voice went up several octaves so a squeak as she traced a wire in his stomach area, "What you want… But...but what you're talking about, well...and I'm actually turning into a femme as I say this…but it's about expressing something. A bond."

She pulled back and eyed him as if his circuit board were loose, "You're turning **ME **down? You are the _strangest_ male I've ever met…"

"Well it's not so much a matter of turning you down," he stammered quickly as she got up, thinking she was furious with him, which she was, but more perplexed than that. The last thing he needed was her mocking him in front of the others. "It's just the timing… well, not just the timing, it doesn't feel right. Maybe if we spent more time together…You know, on patrol or…or a scouting mission. I like to fly through the canyons in Grid Omega. There's a waterfall located in one of the coves among the mountains that when the sun hits it just right…"

She made a scoffing sound, folding her arms as she leaned against a bulkhead, her expression a dark one, "First you insult me, then you, what, ask me on a _date?_ What are you playing at, Screech?"

"Nothing! I...I'm not playing at anything, I just thought maybe you'd enjoy…"

"Yeah well you thought wrong. No one disses _this_ Widow." She struck the keypad and door opened, letting her stalk out before he could protest.

"Femmes…" Terrorsaur sighed loudly, not knowing what he'd done wrong. He had little experience with the females of his race, despite his pleasing appearance. His voice didn't help. And he always seemed to say the wrong thing.

"What a _fool_..." she sulked as she stomped down a half and around the corner towards her quarters.

_"That he is."_

She froze at the menacing chuckle, looking around wildly as she drew her weapon, "Tarantulas?! Where are you?!"

_"Why, I'm still inside your pretty little head, controlling your pretty little thoughts."_

"**NO!** You're in your own body now, I saw the transfer take place!" she shrieked in frustration then doubled over as an agonizing pounding, akin to a Human's migraine, filled her head.

_"Witless Widow. Be quiet! I do not wish for others to know of our little arrangement, nor should you. Imagine how they would descend on you like vultures in your weakened position."_

He was right, and she hated him for it, more than she'd ever hated anyone. "What do you _want?"_

_"I want you to continue your game with the dactyl fool. He mocked me, threatened me, and for that he must suffer! And so he will. The worst pain possible."_

"What's that...got to do with _me?"_ she gritted out, holding her head in both claws as wave after wave of tortuous pounding rippled through it.

_"He desires you. He always has. You will make him trust you, then destroy him!"_

"Trust_ me?"_ she laughed sarcastically, "No one trusts me, I've seen to that."

_"Oh, but he will. I can tell he already wants to. Like all fools, he is soft beneath the armor, easy to manipulate…"_

Blackarachnia brooded over this, feeling the truth in her fellow spider's words. The way Terrorsaur looked at her, had always looked at her, was horribly mixed. Admiration, bitterness, mistrust, and a deep seeded longing, like there was sparkling someone still locked inside his exostructure still seeking acceptance and believing, for all her duplicities, that their few in common qualities meant she might be the one that could give it to him. She didn't know why, but it sent a cold shiver of dread down her spine. Perhaps it was the insane cackles of Tarantulas echoing inside her head.

**To Be Continued...**

**Author's Notes:** First off, I'd like to thank everyone for the reviews. It's really great to get the feedback and in this case it gave me some fantastic ideas as to the future structure of the Maximals from leader down. The refences to the Requiem, I give full credit to Shockbox for. I posted this last nigth and forgot to mention that. In her fic "Remember Me", which is a dazzlingly well written Dinobot and Rattrap fic, she gave a lovely description of the device and it's funtion, which I would have been at a lose to describe without. If you think I was too vague on the details in any part, I'm lost in psycology homework and accounting. Blah. Slagging school, LOL. Anyway, comments are welcome. Laserbeak, AKA Lase, Semper, and Cataclysm, as well as the majority of the storyline, excluding parts mentioned and accredited here to other writers and those take from the show belong to me. I don't own Beast Wars because if I did, Terrorsaur wouldn't have died! Also, at one point, Optimus would have had a dream about snatching up a much smaller Megatron in lipstick and high-heels and carrying him to the top of the Empire State Building. while swatting at tiny versions of Starscream and Thundercracker...


	5. Dinoboot Camp

**Rewritten in the Stars**

**By Onyxfang 2009**

_I must obey the rules  
I must be tame and cool  
No staring at the clouds  
I must stay on the ground  
In clusters of the mice  
The smoke is in our eyes  
Like babies on display  
Like angels in a cage  
I must be pure and true  
I must contain my views  
There must be something else  
There must be something good  
Far away_

_-Soundgarden, Boot Camp_

_***_

Three solar cycles, thought they felt like stellar cycles, to the young recruits, of training was enough to reduce gleaming metallic armor and dent free chassis's to scuffed and dirty imitations of their former selves. The four young Maximals stood at the base of a cliff-face in a ravine at attention as their drill sergeant sneered at them. Filthy, tired, exasperated, demoralized. Dinobot had a better word to sum up his charges. Weak.

"In order to face Predacons in battle mode, you must learn what Predacons fight like…" his lip curled in disgust as he paced back and forth in front of them, eyeing the four young bots with disdain, "You are soft, weak, spoiled, useless heaps of scrap metal… boasting your names so arrogantly. Predacons do not choose their names until they have earned them in battle against a worthy opponent! You will be stripped of your names and given more fitting ones until such a time that you have earned them back, IF that day ever comes…"

"_What?!_ You can't do that!" Cheetor yelped then cringed back as the taller bot loomed over him, "I mean…I…"

"Silence! You no more know what you meant to say than you know what to expect when you recklessly charge into battle making a target of yourself to Predacon fire and endangering your comrades. Wild cat indeed. You are nothing but a spoiled, lazy, sniveling house cat who is better suited for playing with a ball of yarn and lapping milk from a dish!"

Cataclysm snickered, "Oh, that's gotta be bloody hard on the old ego, Cheets. I think the Commander here's saying you don't have the stones to…"

His almost malevolent gaze turned to Cataclysm.

"You, female, does your tongue never cease its wagging? Even the densest of Predacons could hear you a parsec away and I have yet to hear one useful utterance from your vocalize! Be silent!"

Her mouth snapped shut and her optics gleamed in seething anger. Dinobot was already moving on to Silverbolt who stood so stiffly someone might have believed he had a still rod inserted up his tailpipe. The raptor was unimpressed.

"If there is a nanobite of common sense within that hollow head of yours, fuzor, I would be astonished. You speak of honor but you know no the meaning of the word any more than how to keep from merrily stomping into traps and getting yourself blown to pieces in order to save the enemy no less!"

Finally he whirled on Quickstrike, who visible cringed back.

"And YOU…pathetic waste of scrap metal and cyber venom. The only thing tough about you is your titanium plated skull which not even a super sonic drill bit could dent. If you have one talent in your tarnished shell it will be to irritate the Predacons into offlining themselves! I would rather have an army of Junkicons to guard my back that trust a single one of you to guard a waste disposal unit!"

He scowled and shook his head, pacing back and forth in front of them, eyeing them for a click then looking away as if it pained his optic circuits merely to gaze upon their ineptitude. Finally when it seemed he was about ready to wear a hole in the ground he turned to them, raising one clawed digit, "Predacons know how to whip useless, soft shelled service bots as you into fighting form. And we shall begin by stripping you down to nothing, starting with your names."

He tapped Cheetor hard on the forehead, "You wish to make a target of yourself? Then until further notice you shall be known as TargetZone!"

Before Cheetor could protest Dinobot had moved on to Cataclysm, "You female, are bright only in the manner of your absurd coloration which defies all Practical camouflage. You shall be known as Red Alert."

"Silverbolt indeed. From now on you are Lugnut."

"And YOU…short…tactless, brainless little serpent, you are now ScrapIron."

Several loud objections filled the air until one deadly look from Dinobot silenced them all. He made a cutting gesture to the cliff face, "Your first step in earning back your former entitlements is to scale that rock face."

Four sets of optics slowly trailed up the rock face as necks craned back. Cheetor…now TargetZone, was the first to step up to the challenge, rubbing his hands together, "No problem, I'll just engage my jets and…"

"In Robot Mode. No weaponry or gadgets, "Dinobot hissed

Targetzone blinked. Suddenly cliff seemed a lot higher than before. Twice as high, "What if we fall or short out from energon interference.." he queried in a small voice, immediately regretting it as Dinobot's fierce, blade sharp face was suddenly directly in his, making him cower back.

"Then you will DIE. Your fellow cadets are forbidden to help you or each other. This is a test of will and strength, NOT team work. You will make it to the top or you will be left behind. That goes for each of you! Now begin!"

The foursome exchanged uneasy looks as they stepped forward and started to haul themselves up the sheer rock face, feeling for hand and foot holds, the two male fuzors most disadvantaged because of their top heavy proportions. Quickstrike..er Scrap Iron paused to hiss in irritation and glare at Cheetor, "Ya had ta ask, didn't ya, Freckles?"

"Hey it's not my fault he.."

"Quit your yammering and get on with it!" Dinobot shouted from below them and silently they all continued the grueling climb, dragging themselves up nanometer by nanometer. Ever so open one would dislodge a rock and send it down in another's face, leading to snarls and shouts of frustration. Cataclysm, being the lightest and mode naturally designed for this sort of venture arrived at the top well before the others with Cheetor in second, Silverbolt some cycles later and Quickstrike trailing behind. They all collapsed in a heap.

"Now that you're all here at last…" They looked up in shock to find Dinobot sitting on a rock awaiting them as if he had beat them and arrive shortly after they began the climb.

"How did you.." Silverbolt/Lugnut started, stunned.

"I took the trail of course..." he gestured to a well defined pleasantly un steep trail that lead up the cliff-face from another angle behind himself. This was greeted by several loud groans but Dinobot was already on his feet, "Now that you've rested we'll begin our patrol hike. About two hundred kilometers should do…why are you all laying there like useless lumps of mortar? Get on your feet! We should be done by the time the noon sun has risen."

***

Laserbeak had all but decided this was not a good place to be by the second month. Semper was growing and needed more nourishment than the swamp could provide. He needed fields and savannas in which to hunt large hooked prey to slake his hunger. And she herself needed more than unusual sized insects with their foul ichors blood and barely any flesh to sustain her beast mode.

Said decision made she set off and he followed. By now he was considerably larger, almost the size of a modern cheetah and still only a fourth the size he'd be at full growth, or so her fragmented files told her.

The journey was a mixture of pleasant discoveries and unpleasant perils. Some nights they feasted to the point that it took a megacycle to get the blood and organic gore from where it had splattered in all her joints, other nights they went to bed hungry, curled up in a cave or large hollowed out tree, sheltered from the cold by snuggling together.

And in this time Semper Fi grew fiercely protective of his master, while she became intensely attached to him both as a friend and a surrogant child, the only being in the world she had to talk to. For all she knew, and was starting to worry, perhaps even the only being in the world period. There were times when his fierce eyes met hers as she talked on about what they'd seen that day, about her hopes and fears, and they gleamed with such intelligence she began to believe maybe he could even understand her, if he was unable to respond in kind. Of course this was only the fanciful thinking of a lonely sentient who thought she might very well be the last bot alive, she told herself. Or perhaps not.

On one occasion they were confronted by a pack of vicious wild dogs driven ravenous by the poor conditions in their pack ground, she surmised, due to their shoddy mange ridden coats from beneath which ribs could clearly be seen. Semper immediately positioned himself between her and the pack, defending her to the point that he killed three of the animals and received a nasty shoulder would. She spend several solar cycles tending to it, concerned it might become infected before they began their journey again. Semper was now slightly larger than your average modern tiger with huge fangs that reached down past his collarbone and a thick shaggy coat of gloriously soft golden fur striped with black waves.

By nightfall on the last day of their journey the wind had dropped slightly as they crossed a rocky mountainside and the last rays of the sunset had turned the sky the color of fresh organic blood. It was not a comforting omen. A thin cold rain broken and soaked them both. Though Laserbeak was aware she did not feel the cold in the same way her companion did she shivered as her servo fluids struggled to heat her internal systems.

The last thing she wanted was for either of them to slip over the edge of some precipice and fall away into the seemingly endless darkness below but there seemed no place to stop and take shelter so they felt their way along step by step. She cursed herself for not taking advantage of the last overhanging rock to huddle up under and wait for dawn but turning back would be impossible on the narrow ledge for Semper.

Her optics were thwarted by a thick fog but she could just make out the edge to the ledge they were on, slopping down an increasingly narrow pass between two peaks. She felt rocks give way and pathway bits crumble into the infinite shadows below as she inched along. Her fluid pump hammered wildly and her logic circuits told her that this was shere foolishness, that she should take to the air where it was safe. But what of Semper. He trusted her. He had followed her this far in pure and devoted faith. She could all but imagine the pained look of betrayal and sorrowful confusion in his eyes as she used her wings or jets to go where he could no longer follow, drifting off until he was a tiny speck, and then nothing. Leaving him to fall to his death or starve for their was no room for a creature his size to turn around and go back. NO!

She shook her head firmly. She could still feel his warm breath on the back of her neck as she fine rain beat down on their heads. Surely it had to widen out soon. Soon. It had to. Had to or they were both doomed because she refused to go on without him. A steady roaring sound pieced the mist and reached her audios only..only it came from below. How odd. Thunder did not come from the ground, it came from the sky! Then she realized it was waterfall, a thundering, magnificent water fall, and close by two. But there was no way to make it out in this gloom. If she had in-flared vision she no longer knew either how to activate it or if it had been damaged in her crush and no longer functioned.

"Just a little further," she whimspered, more to herself than the massive big cat tredding light behind her on paws as silent as a feather landing on water. She moved onward then froze. Just ahead not three meters the ledge fell away into a precipice. Here the underground river burst forth and poured into the blackness of eternity. She shuddered. No where to go. Maybe they could climb down but…

Just then Semper caught the sent of the running water and his thirst drove him forward in a careless step of eagerness. He could not be blamed, not really, he was only a big overgrown cub still gaining balance on his over-sized paws, but his one step without calculated care dislodged a large chunk of the path and he plummeted into the abyss. Laserbeak's cry of horror rang out among the mountains as she caught one of his big paws in both hands, ignoring the pain as his hooked claws cut through her armor and damaged circuitry. For one click, one incredibly short, endless click she clutched him desperately, her engines suspending them. But of course he was far too heavy, far too large. And as she refused to relinquish her hold both their wails echoed off the cannon ways as they dropped away into the night until even their cries vanished.

***

Three months. THREE. MONTHS. _Three. Slagging. Bloody. Insane. Months._ Of endless training. Cataclysm, excuse me, Red Alert, was sore and tired and fed up. Add to that that when she had wandered down the halls this evening to collapse into rechange she had heard a most disconcerting sound coming from Cheetor's room. She paused and tilted her head but it still took a click to understand what she was hearing. He was CRYING.

A sick feeling twisted up in her gut. Of course he was crying. How stupid of her. And it was not because of Dinobot's insane training course..Dinoboot camp, as they all referred to it jokingly when they had a spare moment. No, this was true grief she could hear in his muffled sobs.

Why had it never struck her before that while on the outside he seemed so determined to be cheerful, to be upbeat, that he was most likely missing his two offlined friends terribly? He seemed to take it so well, even better than Rattrap or Dinobot, but it made perfect sense that it was all just an act. How could it not be? Optimus Primal, just a name to her, had been like a father to Cheetor and Rhinox like an uncle.

She paused, wondering if she should knock, should say something to him. But she decided against it. After all, she was a bot of very few emotions, or so she had herself convinced, and she was tired and cranky and had never suffered this sort of agonizing loose, so what could she say that wouldn't make things worse?

She shook her head and continued to her quarters. After tending to her squad's various aches and pains she felt offline on her feet. And yet which the sound of Cheetor's sobs still echoing in her memory circuits, knowing the bot she'd so badly misjudged as a shallow child was suffering and bottling it up all inside so no one else would see it, she couldn't simply drop into recharge.

Instead she slumped into her computer desk's swiveling chair and called up her files. Better to do research, take her mind off it. Bloody sodding Poofter Dinobot was pushing the kid too hard. Maybe she'd have a word with him. Then again, imagining before forced into 500 transform-ups and dragging her squad into the punishment with her didn't seem so helpful so perhaps not.

Something had been digging at her processor. She tried to search for Predacon training techniques to see if Dinobot was really truthfully being honest about his training or if he was just trying to torture them all into the slag heap early, but anything remotely Predacon or Decepticon was classified. Stupid elders.

She was about to click off and shut the computer down when a second thought stuck her. She typed in the name "Red alert", one she was grudgingly learning to answer too though she found drawing such attention to her color scheme demeaning.

A surpisingly long file popped up and she skimmed over it, her optics widening with each sentience:

_**"Red Alert:**__was once a fierce Autobot warrior. It was not until he was seriously wounded, losing his hand permanently in battle, that he was able to sit back and realize how terrible war is. After which time he became a reluctant fighter, and somewhat emotionally detached, preferring to repair his friends than tear his enemies to shreds. This does not mean he was in anyway a coward. To the contrary, when a fellow Autobot on the battlefield needed his immediate medical attention, he would be there no matter what it took. Red Alert is chronicaled in the Arceieves of Cybertron as a brilliant medic and scientist, but also extremely cautious."_

If she had been the crying , sappy kinda bot, it might have reduced her to tears. Maybe. But still, it made her spark swell with pride, knowing Dinobot had chosen to name her, like himself, after a fierce and noble Autobot warrior. She was no longer so eager to give up the name when she earned her old one back, at least. Especially when her extended searched provided that Targetzone and ScrapIron were not historic names at all. And as for Lugnut, there was only a single sentience stating he had been an ancient Decepticon. In a way she had been deemed special by their second in comment, remarkably singled out as if he did not despise her because of her being a femme, something she'd always assumed, but rather saw potential in her above that of her peers.

Smiling faintly she got up and left her computer, wandering down the hall to the command center where Dinobot was on sentry duty. She hesitated and cleared her vocalizer but he did not so much as glance at her.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to say.."

She paused for a moment, so long that even she was not sure she was going to finish what she'd began. To his credit Dinobot did not snap at her impatiently, only waited as if they both knew what this was concerning. Her vocalizer locked up with rare spark felt emotion for a click before she could make it fuction properly. Before now she'd never know how much the older warrior's approval meant to her.

"Thanks," she said simply with a faint smirk, then turned and vanished back down the hall. She did not see the breif smile of amusement Dinobot allowed himself.

***

**Author's Note: Sorry it's so short but I've been bogged down by visual literacy homework. The next chapter is already in progress, is gonna be longer and centers, surprisingly, on Lase, Waspinaotr, and Tigatron. Weird combo? Yes, but it will make sense when I post it. So out of curiousity, I'm wondering, because I value your opinions! Should Terrorsaur end up with Blackarachnia or Waspinator? Should Cataclysm eventually have a romantic interest, and if so, who should it be? Lemme know your ideas, they help shape my chapters!**


End file.
